


Tipping the Scales

by Momma



Series: Naked Mole Dragon [1]
Category: American Dragon: Jake Long, Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, I need to make this a little more explained, I started this when I was still a novice writer, KP is a witch in this, M/M, Massive Crossover, Multi, OCs that are adorable, Other, Ron is not an ass, Suggestions are looked at seriously, but I am doing better, but it will be explained, cuddles and kisses, he is the injured party, lots of issues and hospital visits, nakedmoledragon, quick moving relationship, self discovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momma/pseuds/Momma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kim rejects Ron for someone else, he finds himself in New York to forget. Stumbling into a teen who can relate, only time will tell how well he might heal...if Kim leaves him alone, that is. Life has just become much more complicated than he thought. And it has become a lot hotter under the collar for Jake Long. </p><p>This is SLASH with mentions of hetero-relationships. Jake/Ron RATED MATURE FOR A REASON.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving this over here... For reasons unspecified, we shall say. I hope to get several of my other works situated here soon as well. Wish me luck. 
> 
> BTW, I'm updating after I finish transferring...
> 
>  
> 
> (((MOVING THIS HERE BECAUSE ANNOYING, EVERYONE ALREADY KNOWS, STICK TO THE FIRST CHAPTER, DAMNIT)))

Chapter One

"What . . . what do you mean, Kay-P? I thought—I thought, you know, that we'd go out, I propose to you in our senior year of college, get married afterward . . . have kids. The whole she-bang, ya know? What changed?" What made me not good enough, Ron felt like screaming in her face. After all they had done and been through, she'd pull this stupid stuff.

"I'm so, so very sorry, Ron, but I changed. I don't feel like that for you anymore, if I ever had. I – I probably just thought I had because I've never felt like this before for anyone except you . . . just—just not so powerful I couldn't breathe. So powerful I can't think of life without Ian."

Ron Stoppable, side kick to the "Amazing" Kim Possible, owner of a super smart "Naked Mole-Rat" Rufus and Smarty Mart connoisseur, felt his life being crushed by the one person he trusted like no other. He loved Kim – loved her – his Kay-P, best friend, hopeful girlfriend and she was dumping him and everything they'd done to save the world and-or each other for Ian Byrd, the new kid in town. Well, Ron conceded, Ian wasn't a kid. More like just-on-this-side-of-the-fence man-boy. More man than boy. Unlike Ron. Actually, the exact opposite of Ron. He guessed he never stood a chance.

"But, but, but . . . "

"I'm sorry."

Ron sighed deeply, looked Kay-P in the eye and decided. He wasn't needed here anymore, wasn't wanted, and he knew he was nothing but a burden, messing up, causing problems and making the missions harder, and so he would leave. Now. Not tomorrow, not in a week, tonight. He'd pack and hitch a ride to the airport. He hoped the invite to his Aunt's house in the NYC was still open.

"Okay, Kim, if that's what you want, I'll leave ya to it," he smiled brightly, falsely. Kim wouldn't see it, he knew it just because she'd never seen it before. When she smiled back hesitantly, he shrugged and moved off down the sidewalk. Ian was due to meet Kay-P – no, Kim Possible any minute.

He had made it home in record time, forgetting his old scooter that he really didn't care about anymore . . . he would let the Twins have it. "Mom?"

"Oh. You're in early, Ronald. Anything happen?" His mother's voice filtered in from the kitchen where she was checking the oven. "We're having meatloaf . . . Oh, Ronald." His mother finally looked up at his stricken face that, while hidden well, was plain to see. She was his mother after all, it just wasn't right not to know these kinds of things. She held open her arms and her baby boy stepped into her embrace, something he hadn't done in a long time.

"What happen, sweet heart?" Ron sniffled in her neck and she marveled that he had grown so much. He was only in his sophomore year in high school and he already towered over her . . . and that was only the physical growth.

"Ka-K-Kim loves that Ian guy, Mom, and . . . and," she held him as he baby cried silently against her neck. She had heard the hesitation as he changed what he was going to say. She wasn't Kay-P and best friend anymore, just Kim and the girl he helped out occasionally. She vowed to have a stern (if slightly angry . . . okay, more like volcanically raging) word with that girl! "I'm – I'm not needed anymore, Mom. She's got someone else now. I – I want . . . Can I visit Aunt Mel?"

"She'd be delighted to have you, sweetie. Let me help you pack, okay?" He nodded and she patted his arm as she turned off the oven. She and her husband could eat out later. Ron was more important than burning food and fire alarms.

Thirty minutes later, after a quick phone call to her husband who was at work and a message left with Mrs. Possible telling the Twins to have the scooter and the message to Mel that Ron was coming after all, she and Ron had packed all that he was going to take with him, including Rufus's habitat from Wade (because it had security more advanced than anything she'd seen before) and a rolling ball from the Twins (something she had found out when it started shooting at things willy-nilly after she had bumped it with the vacuum) packed in a hard suitcase to prevent damage. Ron was sitting quietly in his seat staring out the car window in misery and she felt her heart go out to her only baby. She sincerely hoped that going to New York would help him heal.

"Bye, baby, call me when you get there and let me know you're safe, okay?" She hugged Ron to her tight, silently crying without tears. Sixteen and he was leaving, if only for a while. "Just be careful."

Ron smiled at her tightly and returned the embrace with a bone-crushing hug, kissing her cheek and walking onto the boarding ramp. In six hours he'd be sitting down with Aunt Mel eating Dunkin' Donuts and Espresso Double-shot Mocha with extra chocolate. They did it every time, no matter what was going on. This time wouldn't be any different. He settled back into his seat, numb, drained and incredibly tired all of a sudden.


	2. Shakey Agreements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What trouble can a depressed teen get up to? 
> 
> Well, Ronald Stoppable IS a wee bit of a magnet, isn't he?

1234567890 chapter two 1234567890

"Sir? Sir, we're here. Can you please wake up?" Ron's eyes fluttered and he turned to the woman who was shaking his shoulder. He glanced outside the window and groaned. So late and Aunt Mel was an "Early to bed, Early to rise" kind of person. He'd catch a cab if he had to and borrow the money from his Aunt until he could pay her back.

Surprise filled his face when he stepped into the airport lobby and Aunt Mel was there, giving him a hug and kiss, pinching his cheek for good measure. "Why, Ron! You've grown! I'll have to double stock everything if I'm going to be feeding a growing boy your age!" And that was it, Ron grinned slightly, a real grin that felt good on his face after all the tight false smiling he'd been doing. He didn't see the flash of worry his aunt hid by closing her eyes in a foxy grin, her bright blond hair and blue eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting of fluorescent bulbs. The bright orange and royal blue suit might have helped.

"Let's get home! I want my bed and chocolate. We'll have our treat tomorrow after I get off at say . . . around four. Explore until then and check out the new stores we have! Old and Used Electronics has a boy about your age there with some of his friends. Maybe you can go see? And further down is the portal to the underground magical community, but don't go there without an escort. The trolls and Man-Eating Orgs are in town and have been grumpy, what with the dragon keeping the peace. You'll most likely meet Grandpa!" Ron had gotten used to his Aunt's habit of jumping subjects, some that didn't make sense but he'd learned at lot on his travels, and that magic was definitely real had been one of them . . . His brain stopped there and he shook his head.

"Aunt Mel, have you moved again?" When the woman beamed, he guessed she had and that she wanted him to see where she was going to take them. She'd always wanted to live near Chinatown, Maybe Kay—Kimberly Possible had helped out and made some quiet connects from the last time they had been saving the world here? He shrugged. It didn't matter.

The thirty minute drive to the apartment was filled with idle chatter on how he was doing, how were the Twins and Wade, did Dr. D and Monkey Fist take over the world yet . . . ya know, normal stuff. He was too preoccupied to realize that his Aunt, always trying to improve his love life some how or other, hadn't mentioned Kim at all . . . not once which usually would have set alarm bells off in his head. It did set of the alarm for his aunt as she watched him distance himself from everything around him. Oh, he was there physically, but mentally he was miles away and barely responsive, nothing at all like her little Ron who liked to cause mischief and mayhem, pulling pranks on all and sundry. If he studied half as much as he saved the world, he'd be passing the Possible girl (an "enemy" had no special name!) in almost everything. And he was one heck of a chef. The food, roasts, DESSERTS . . .

They settled in that night, her heart worrying over her nephew and friend. He was most likely her best friend, teenager or not. And . . . she loved him like a son. A son she could never have. She tucked him in and phoned Marsha to let her know they were in and that Ron was . . . hurting. Marsha turned to John while she was on the phone and put Melinda on the speaker. Their baby boy . . .

The next morning, Ron decided, was too bright and he didn't want to wake up. Ever. With a good night's sleep, everything became clear and everything hurt where it had been numb just hours before. He pushed it away and got dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved black Tee. Rufus was up with him and in his pocket within seconds, the mole-rat happily ridding in the cargo pocket that could have held three of him easily. So roomy!

He left the apartment with toast in his mouth and the twenty dollars and key his aunt had left on the counter for him. He locked up, checked out on the commune balcony for the weather and sighed somewhat happily that it shouldn't rain today. Just in case, he grabbed the collapsible umbrella from his mini pack and chucked it in his pocket with Rufus. Everything he thought he would need was in his pockets, the rest of the stuff like chap stick, a comb (like it would help), and the communicator that he wouldn't be using anyway stuffed in a fanny-pack attached around his waist and resting on his hip. If those got stolen, he could get more, or ask Wade for a commissioned Com Link that he said wouldn't be fielded for a few years yet. Genius friends . . . everyone needed someone like that. Come to think of it, he'd go ahead and get a CL for his aunt too so that they could stay in touch more often.

After two hours of foraging in the game shops, grabbing candy and cheese-sticks from the local grocers, and playing at the arcade ten minutes from the apartment, he finally decided to explore the Old and Used Electronics store.

The bell to the slightly dusty store rang as he made his way in, eyes widening at all the tech stuff he could see just waiting for special fingers to make them work . . . He drooled. Tech geek he wasn't but he could fix some of the older stuff easily with a few minutes and a manual. And this, this was Heaven!

"Hello, can I help you?" The voice belonged to short, old Asian man and was heavily accented, the man's blue robe thing tied with a white sash. If Ron remembered right, the robe was a kimono or yukata and this was very traditional dress. So, a traditional man? Most likely.

Ron bowed to the man, glad to have learned some etiquette while traveling around the world. The man's face was surprised and delighted as he returned the gesture to a lesser degree. That meant that he acknowledged the respect given him and returned it to a younger man, but without age, Ron knew he wouldn't get much more than that unless he was a God or Royalty. He felt honored to receive that much.

"I was looking through the neighborhood and my Aunt Mel told me about this place. I just wanted to see what you had to sell," Ron said quietly as he felt a flush rising up. What about this man made him so nervous? He was as almost as short as the Twins, for crying out loud! "I think I found a new home until I start school," he joked lightly hoping the atmosphere of Doom and Gloom would "Go . . . A-way!" and let him do some business.

"What interests you, young man?" Ron felt as if there was a special emphasis on man that he was positively worried about. His aunt had mentioned the magical community, but meeting one on the first day!

"Um, anything that I can work on? I'll do it for free, but I just need something to do right now for a few hours. Aunt Mel won't be around until four and I saw that some of the machines were in deep trouble." He pointed out one of the old VCR's and then picked a screwdriver out of his pocket . . . really, after that one time, he never went anywhere without tools now. "It looks like the wheel is broken. I'm not Houdini or Wade or anything, but I can get it working in top shape in no time!" He smiled at the man.

The man blinked then ran a hand down his long mustache that reminded Ron of those Asiatic dragons, pulling on the white goatee that was mostly hid under the white hanging mass. "I don't see why not, young man, so please work your magic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone finds something that I may need to look over, please don't be hesitant to let me know.


	3. View Reversal and Questions, Questions, Questions

Grandpa had heard the bell and came from the potion he and Fuu were brewing. It came as a surprise to see a boy his grandson's age hesitate in the doorway. Weren't most of the kids in school? He suppressed the urge to run the kid out of the store. If he was a delinquent, he would feel no remorse, but if he was here for genuine business . . .

"How can I help you?" The slightly startled look made him want to laugh but he resisted in favor of studying the boy more closely. Human? Yes. Magical? No, not really. Only the barest hint was there and even that was all but lost in his aura.

The boy bowed low in standard form. He blinked at the change of behavior from skittish child to a well versed young man. He bowed to the boy, not quite sure why a child would know of this form of greeting if he had little to no experience of it . . . or maybe this young man was more than he had first thought? He would see.

"I was looking through the neighborhood and my Aunt Mel told me about this place. I just wanted to see what you had to sell," ah, Melinda. A delightful woman who was not quite all there. "I think I found a new home until I start school," the boy said into the silence. Grandpa hid his snort of amusement. Wouldn't Jake find it humorous to hear this place called a second home.

"What interests you, young man?" Grandpa watched the boy scan the store and smelt the use of wild magics. Where . . . ?

"Um, anything that I can work on? I'll do it for free, but I just need something to do right now for a few hours. Aunt Mel won't be around until four and I saw that some of the machines were in deep trouble." The young man looked slightly afraid he would say no. He wouldn't but really felt astonishment that a boy had collapsible tools in his pockets. Tools that hadn't made it to market yet. "It looks like the wheel is broken. I'm not Houdini or Wade or anything, but I can get it working in top shape in no time!"

Houdini, the magician and Wade . . . probably a technician the boy knew. He rubbed his beard as he thought quickly. Why not? Maybe he could find out what the boy's magic was. "I don't see why not, young man, so please work your magic." And he sincerely meant it.

And so he sat as the shy young man fiddled with the old VCR that had been causing all kinds of problems in the store. When a naked mole-rat surfaced from a pocket, yawning and looking around, he felt amusement curl in him. Such a strange human boy needed an equally unique companion. Just before lunch, the boy finished three VCR's, two DVD players and a handful of small gadgets that were scattered about. The ten or so manuals the boy had devoured like water to a thirsting man made Grandpa raise his brows. The dozing boy that held another manual to his current project made him smile.

Everything worked too, better than it had before hand while brand new. So, that was the boy's magic. Fixing things. Grandpa was sure that with a little training, the boy could probably be an adequate healer or a master restoring sorcerer. He'd need to chat with Melinda before referencing someone to him, but he thought he could talk the woman into it. He'd give it a week, though, to make sure that this wasn't a fluke of duress.

"Fuu, I'm going out for lunch. What would you have me bring you?" Fuu stuck his head out from the back, the gray dog pulling on the folds of his loose skin that he had charmed to hold impossibly large things.

"Applegate down the street is selling her new Eat'em and Love'em pies. I'll have one of those and make sure the kid gets one, too. I've been listening to his stomach growling for the last half hour." Grandpa nodded and left the store, turning the sign to say "Back in _" before going to buy lunch.

Ron woke to the incredible smell of pie crusts and berries, pork bar-b-cue and pickles and felt his mouth watering and his stomach growling a bit obviously. He was starving!

"Ah, awake, finally? Here, this is your lunch," the tiny man waved away his protest at being fed, "and no arguing. You're hungry and have been helping me out in the store just by fixing things. I'll feed you even if that isn't half of what you've done today." Ron felt the blush rise high on his cheeks and cleared his throat before taking a bite out of the pork sandwich with a groan at the taste. Only Nacos were better than this!

"Thanks, sir!"

"Oh, call me Grandpa, young man!" the man said in a happy voice. Ron smiled and tried to talk through his food. Feeling just a bit embarrassed, he gulped the food down and offered his hand to shake. "Ronald Stoppable, but just call me Ron."

The rest of the afternoon passed with idle chatter, the older man watching as he tinkered a bit with some old toys that didn't have manuals but were fairly simple in design. A gray dog lounged on a cushion by the door, licking the pie set in front of it hungrily and making loud slurping noises that made Ron laugh. Rufus escaped the pocket for a bit of exploring, chattering with the dog and bouncing around with whatever berry he had at the time as he sucked them down. Twenty-to-four, Ron packed away his tools and left with a wave to the elderly man, promising to be back to finish working.

"Aunt Mel! I'm home!" He walked through the entryway to the kitchen where the woman was banging around, shoving a pan into the oven and turning it on low heat. He smiled a the attempt to hide the cake he knew she was baking. "Ready for those Espresso Double-shot Mochas with donuts?"

Aunt Mel jumped up and pushed him out of the apartment leaving it unlocked and telling Ming Ue that she was taking time to spend with her nephew and if she would please keep an eye on her cake? The woman agreed with a smile on her cherubic face, her dark almond eyes taking in the youth that stood with Melinda and nodding to him. He bowed back, if a little less perfect but no less sincere gesture. Ming smiled at him again and shooed Melinda away.

So, they had their Espresso Double-shot Mochas, Ron with extra chocolate and a variety of Dunkin' Donuts that made even Ron envious of the luscious flavors and he wondered if he could recreate them sometime. And so, his days were spent with Grandpa at the Old and Used Electronics store where he heard about Jake, the man's grandson and his forays into trouble with his two best friends, Rufus talking to Fuu . . . who Ron had yet to be introduced to and still didn't know the dog could talk. A new record for Fuu, actually. He started at the same high school in two weeks. His sudden and unexpected departure from his previous high school was making transfer take longer than he ever imagined. Aunt Mel worked all day and came home to a home-cooked meal courtesy of Ron and bought more clothes than humanly possible to wear for the still overly quiet and sad boy.

This went on for a week before Ron broke down. He was sitting at the table with Mel when the Communicator went off. Now, this was fairly normal since he'd gotten in touch with Wade, so Melinda brushed it off. It wasn't until she heard the "Hi, Kimberly." that she looked up. The fake smile was back and her heart ached.

"Give me the Com, Ron." When he shook his head, she got a serious look, one he'd only seen twice in his life. Once when his Aunt Mel heard she couldn't have kids, and the second time when he had come down sick and had to go to the hospital for three weeks. "Ronald, do it now."

He gulped and handed over the Com without anymore fuss, leaving the room just in case. She was glad he did and turned to the Com in her hand, glaring daggers at the girl on the other end. "What do you want?"

Kim had known this woman for years and she'd never been this . . . angry and hateful. "I wanted to talk to Ron, see how he was." Which was partially the truth. She also wanted her friend and crime fighting partner back. She missed him a lot and even the Tweebs wouldn't talk to her right now.

Aunt Mel sneered at the girl. "Well, he moved here to not see you, hear from you, or even know you. You broke his heart and now you want your friend back, is that right? Well, listen hear, little girl, don't call him again. He'll call you when he wants to talk to you and I won't have you harassing him into going back to work for you. Find a new side kick. Ron's tired of being burned by you." With that she tossed the Com into the trash disposal and hit the button, feeling satisfaction with the grinding noise of damaged metal. All she had to do now was call up that young genius boy. Such a loyal friend and sweet darling boy, Wade was. She dug through the kitchen drawer and growled to herself. She had Wade's number somewhere . . . AH HA!

"Wade? Hello, sweety, this is Aunt Mel. Yeah, the one in NYC. Can you rustle up a Com that Ron can have?" She smiled. "You would? You really are a sweet boy! Ron was so right about you!" She frowned slightly. "Just make sure that Possible girl can't just tap through to him. You haven't heard? I'll give the low down then . . . " and they talked for a few minutes, Mel hanging up rather sooner than normal as she went in search of Ron.

He was sitting on his bed, head in his hands and face closed off. His hair hung limply over his eyes casting them in shadow and hid his honey brown eyes. Mel sat in a kneeling position in front of him and opened her arms for a hug. Ron hugged her hard, shaking like a leaf. She soothed him and when he did cry, it was a messy, wet affair as he gripped his aunt and second mother to his chest to try and stop the hurt. She let him, rocking him and running fingers through his hair to comfort him. He stopped when he finally fell into an exhausted sleep draped over Mel's shoulder. She set him on the bed and pulled the quilt from the bottom to cover him, tucking in the bottom around his bare feet. A small kiss was laid on his forehead, her fingers brushing the hair from his face. He'd need a hair cut soon if he didn't want to have really long hair . . .

"Hey, Marsha," she said over the phone later. "Possible called. Yeah. He cried, Sha-sha, he cried like his world was falling apart. No, no, I threw the Communicator down the drain . . . No, literally . . . She won't be getting to him through that again. Wade is sending some over . . . He sent some to you too? Good, good. Can you send some stuff from the Twins? He needs some cool gear to get around. You can? Thanks, sis, I don't know what I'd do if he got hurt any worse." She listened and watched the boy—no, young man from the small hall move in his sleep. "Did you know he could fix things? What? He never told you? Well, Grandpa Long from down the street? He's been fixing everything in there . . . would you believe it? I think he "inherited" something from great-Grandpa Abby. Yeah. I'm talking to Grandpa Long about it now. He'll need a tutor . . . "

Grandpa felt concern when Ron didn't show up early like he usually did. He did come in after lunch, a sheepish smile on his face and a large picnic basket, his eyes still a little red and large dark bags telling of his restless night. This really did bother Grandpa, more so than usual, who called Melinda when Ron went to the washroom.

"Hello, is this Melinda?" He held the phone from his ear to lessen the volume of her enthusiastic voice. "I just called because I was worried about Ronald. Yes . . . What? No wonder. Thank you, my dear . . . Oh, sure . . . Oh? Well then . . . If it's not too much trouble, he can stay the night with me?"

"Um, stay the night?" Ron came back out wiping his hands on his jeans, the dark gray shirt pulled up out of the way. "Is Aunt Mel called out again?"

Grandpa nodded that yes, Melinda was called away again. Ron sighed and rubbed his neck. "Okay, whatever she thinks is best." He grabbed his key and went to the door. "I'll just grab some clothes before she leaves. How long did she say she was going to be?"

"Two, maybe four or five days, but she'll try to be back in two." Ron nodded and left at a slow jog. When he finally got back, he was carrying a fairly small duffel and a clear ball meant for Rufus. There were several clear buttons that all but blended into the ball but Grandpa didn't ask what they could be used for. Really, how much trouble could be had from a silver-ish-clear pet toy?

Ron just put his things off to the side and started back where he had left off, taking the back off one of the newer electronics and pulling out the memory board. He whistled at the damage it had, pulling the solar-operated welding tool Wade had given him (months ago after the fortress stunt when a little welding would have made things so much easier) from his pocket. He touched up the little nodes and made a few adjustments that would allow it to run without going in circles. He felt Grandpa's eyes on him and stifled a grin. The old man was so weird . . . kind of like Uncle Bart. Very observant but a little loose in the clock tower.

"GRAMPS! YO, GRAMPS! We had a half day! Let's get that training done so I can go with Trixie and Spud to the arcade!"

Startled, Ron jumped and the welding tool burned deeply into his left hand making him yelp. He tried to sooth the wound without touching it, ignoring the other teen boy that was now staring at him. Grandpa came around the counter with a jar as he glared at the black-haired teen. The boy rubbed his head and grinned weakly. "Oops?"

"JAKE! Please, what have I told you about showing courtesy? Even if this is my shop, you should show proper respect!" Grandpa turned Ron's hand over and felt himself wince. This was a third degree burn and it would take a long time to heal, even with the healing cream in his hand. It needed maybe seven or so stitches, or at the least butterfly stitches to hold it closed. Ron glared at it, seemingly unconcerned.

"Don't worry too much, Grandpa, it's not that bad. I've done worse and they always heal quickly," Ron soothed softly. He held his other hand out for the cream, dipping his fingers in when Grandpa opened it and spreading the purple mess over the stinging wound. "At worst, I'll loose a little feeling there if the nerves are too damaged, but nothing too serious. Promise!" Ron held his fingers in a boyscout salute, grin in place . . . a real grin, though it was slightly small and sad.

The boy called Jake cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, sorry about that, man. I didn't think anyone would be doing anything like that here. Welding, I mean. Especially not another kid," Jake babbled as he pulled on the green tips of his hair lightly, pacing in agitation. He stopped to face his livid grandfather and the other boy. "I'm diggin' myself deeper, aren't I?"

When Grandpa would have come back with a speech about disrespectful treatment of a guest, Ron laughed at Jake and waved him over. Grandpa marveled that he hadn't heard the sound before, even after several days. Children laughed constantly and he was surprised he hadn't noticed the difference like he should have. Was he loosing his touch?

"Maybe, but it's kind of funny to see a street wise kid like you sputtering." Jake did sputter at this making Ron chuckle at the affronted look Jake gave him. "So, what's this training? Martial arts?"

Jake hid a cringe and cast a glance at his Gramps. "Well, yeah." If you called daily torture training with mops and toilet bowl scrubbers, crazy unicorns and hungry harpies, trolls and potions martial arts training, then yeah, he did. A lot.

Ron nodded. "Hey, Grandpa, since Jake and I will be having different schedules anyway, do you think you can give me some beginners lessons? I can do Monkey Fist because of that staff, but I really can't use it."

"Because of a staff? Come on, even the magical community needs more than a staff to learn a whole set of martial arts!" Jake protested the casual way Ron just mentioned fighting. No one could learn from holding a stupid stick! He didn't see Grandpa slowly having a fit at the mention of magic.

"Ah, but if it was the enchanted Monkey Staff, able to change shape to adapt to the situation, then yes you could. Especially if your life was on he line which left you open to its influence under the full moon at Summer Solstice. And anyway, I said I knew how to do it, I didn't say I could use it. Beat that, green boy!" Ron grinned at Jake and stuck his tongue out. Jake did the same, only his tongue was long and forked like a reptile's. Ron stared before saying, "Cool! I knew he wasn't exactly human," he hooked his thumb at the stunned older man, "but I didn't know it ran in the family!"

Jake felt his jaw all but drop into his lap in astonishment. "Seriously? You can tell when someone's magical?" Ron nodded hesitantly before shrugging, arms out in a helpless gesture.

"I guess. I doan know."

"No way, man! Are you a for real wizard?"

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right, me? You obviously can't see clearly," the blond huffed. And then cringed when his hand came in contact with his shirt. "Ow!"

Jake reached out and grabbed the hand, looking at the burn. It really was bad, the kind even his mother had a fit over no matter that she knew he was a dragon. "Let's get you to my mom. She's good about getting things healed." Ron felt himself flush, but ignored it as he pulled his hand away and tidied up where he had been working, wincing every time his hand hit something resulting in spikes of pain shooting up his arm. Rufus grabbed all his tools and stuffed them in a pocket, returning to his own and snuggling in for the ride.

Ron patted his little buddy and grabbed his duffel, wondering how he was going to carry it and the ball for Rufus. Jake solved the problem for him by picking up the ball and pushing it under his arm. Jake led him out, grabbing a helmet and skateboard, both that he put under his other arm, as they left, both calling out far-wells and Ron mentioning to eat the truffles from the basket.

Fuu came from the back and eyed the door. "Does it bother you as much as it does me that Ron doesn't seem to take his health seriously enough?" Grandpa nodded to the dog. "Okay, just make sure he actually eats. He's getting too skinny, yah know. S'not healthy at all."

Grandpa sighed. Why was everything so complicated when it came to dealing with young?


	4. Sleep Complications

Jake kept shifting looks back at this Ron character. He was taller than Jake, maybe around five feet seven or so inches. Blond hair and honey brown eyes made his face stand out in the scramble of Chinatown that had a sea of dark heads and skin. Ron was very pale cream, freckles on his face and arms, what little Jake could see of the arms, anyway. His mother would love him to death, that he knew, and his sister Hailey would be insufferable from fan-girly-things he would never understand . . . thank you, God. His dad would . . . well, his dad was a few cards short of a full deck, so meh. There was nothing he could do for that one person of his family. His dad would either take it in stride or just go bonkers . . . probably both now that he thought about it.

"Here we are!" He opened the door, juggling all the things in his grasp. "MOM! We're home!"

"Oh, Jake, dear, dinner won't be ready for another hour," a pretty woman called from the kitchen. She blinked when she saw Ron. "And who is your friend? I thought you were spending the day with Trixie and Spud?"

"Was going to, but I made him burn himself so I brought him here for you to heal him. I got to call them about that . . . By the way, Ron, this is Mom. Mom, this is Ron." Ron bowed to the woman like he had Grandpa and she squealed in joy before returning the formal welcome.

"Welcome into our home, Ron. Why don't you come in and I'll get out some cookies and milk?"

Ron stepped into the very clean – correction, surgically clean kitchen, the counters shiny with cleanliness and the table sparkling in the light bit of sun the window caught from outside. Muffins were set in arrangements along the island bar, plastic over them and ribbons holding them closed. Jake's mom appeared to like cooking . . . or was a chef.

"Now, let me see that burn," the woman commanded in her most ferocious Mother-said-so voice and Ron held out his hand immediately. There was no way he was going to get bitten by whatever Jake and his mother were! Whatever creature they were, it was large and dangerous.

So, he just said, "Yes'm."

Jake lounged in the door watching Ron being treated, his mother wiping away the purple cream and delicately touching the wound itself. Ron barely winced when Jake would have been howling that it hurt. Ron's pain tolerance was very high, like he had been trained for something like this. It worried him. There was no way Ron was military, but whatever he got up to at his previous home left Jake in the dark and worried.

First and foremost, there was Monkey Fist, a reputedly lost martial arts form coveted by many, was known by this boy. He was extremely gifted in repairing the things in his grandfather's shop if how the old man went on about Ron's ability was any indication. It usually was since it was so hard to get his Gramps to compliment anything or anyone. He had a . . . a, um, naked mole-rat that, too, was exceptionally talented and understood human language and words. Ron was able to differentiate between magical and non. That was something Jake had never seen before. He apparently also had an extraordinary amount of good luck, if what his grandfather said about this boy's adventures were true . . . and they most likely were, whether or not they seemed plausible. He was emotionally distraught. So distraught he should be all but catatonic.

The last one had been his own revelation in the last little bit. Those honey brown eyes were shadowed in a way only those who felt strongly, hurt deeply, or felt the pain of or for someone else did. It was not that normal an occurrence even with death all around him. People mourned and got over it sooner or later and to a much lesser degree of emotional trauma. Most people knew they were going to die someday, be it tomorrow or in a hundred years, but the kind of pain Ron was going through was a special kind of torment. He hoped Ron wasn't empathic. He'd met one before, while shopping for Fuu, and the poor woman was nearly mad with the feelings of hundreds of others messing with her mind. New York City was a huge, compacted place and being an empath in all that chaos was like leaving a leaf-boat to the waves of the ocean. Not a good idea.

So, was Ron an empath? Maybe. Was it even remotely possible? Very likely, considering. Could Jake help at all? Well . . . that remained to be seen. He could barely help himself sometimes.

The phone rang and Jake answered automatically. "Hello?"

"Jake, tell your mother that Ronald will be staying with us for the next few days. His aunt is out of touch right now."

"Okay, sure. Bye, Grandpa." Jake turned to his mom and whistled. The wound was still not healed all that much. He figured she'd be done by now. "Hey, Ma? Gramps said that Ron was staying a few nights with us, so, ya know. Do whatever it is you do." She nodded absently and waved him on.

Jake went on up to his room, first, to check and see if the little she-devil Hailey and done anything and second, to tell Hailey they had company tonight. It was that or listen to her whine for hours on end. He just might strangle her today if she did that. "Hailey, get out here. I need to tell you something."

Hailey, devil spawn and little sister, emerged from her own room, play tea cup in hand. "Yes, big brother. What is it that I may do for you?" Jake grit his teeth at the sweet, grating voice that used perfect grammar and made his ears bleed.

"Hailey, we have a friend of mine over. His name is Ron, but don't pester him. He's had a rough day and needs to heal," he made sure his sister understood everything, taking slowly and correctly letting her know he was serious. "He can sense magic so no messing with him."

Hailey looked at her brother and sighed in a dreamy way. "I'm glad that Rose girl is finally obsolete!" she sang in a cheery little seven year old voice that made him cringe with the frequencies Hailey produced.

"Whatever, shrimp. Rose is my girlfriend, Hunter Clan or not."

Hailey rolled her eyes. "How many boys have girlfriends out to kill them?" With that, she flounced down the hall to go see the new comer.

"Hailey, I guess Jake told you?" Hailey nodded, smiling sweetly and giving Ron the creeps. Little girls like this reminded him of that old horror movie. Black pig tails, lightly brown skin, and black eyes gave her a distinct look reminiscent to Jake's and her mother. Grandpa reminded him more of Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid movie. Now, what did their dad look like?

"Hello, Hunny, I'm home! Hey, little sugar bear, how about giving this old man a kiss!" In walked the one person that stood out so blindingly against his family, it was a wonder that people didn't comment on his children. A fairly average man, brown hair, tanned skin from staying outside, old and clunky glasses, a suit that should be dunked in acid, the brown, yellow, orange and green plaid burned so much . . . Just like his own dad. Jake was the polar opposite of this strangely unmemorable man, standing out in every way from his hair to his clothes and attitude.

"Well, hello there, skipper! I'm Jake's dad! Nice to meet you . . . " Ron held out his hand and muttered "Ron" just loud enough to hear. "Ron! It's nice to see Jakey with people his own age, ya know? Where's Spud? Trixie? I'd figure those two young whipper-snappers would be here by now!"

Was this guy always this happy? And did he have to talk in exclamation marks the entire time? Apparently so because he did the rest of the night, right through dinner and up until bed time. Ron sat physically tired as well as mentally drained from Jake's father and felt eighty-nine percent better that, while his dad was a total weirdo, he wasn't this bad.

Jake led him to his own room. "Well, since Mom said the family guest room was occupied by some obscure aunt of mine, you'll be sleeping here tonight. I'll take the floor," Jake grabbed a sleeping bag from the closet and set about making himself a pallet. He took a few of the extra pillows he usually kept for those nights he was sick or unable to transform and stuffed them under the bag to make a mini-pseudo mattress. Finally satisfied, he changed to some sleep wear and crawled in.

Ron had already undressed and was brushing his teeth in the bathroom down the hall. He rolled the clothes from that day and stuffed them in a trash bag so that when he packed them back up his other clothes wouldn't get dirty. A simple solution. Checking to make sure he got all the suds, he rinsed one last time and crept back into Jake's room. If Hailey or, forbid the thought, Jake's mom saw him, he just might die of embarrassment. He only wore black boxers and a dark green sleep shirt that was just a little too tight but very comfortable to wear. He would be changing to briefs in the morning just because he hated having the fabric of boxers bunch in his pants but he'd worry about that later. Right now, he just wanted some sleep.

Jake woke some hours later to a muffled scream, transforming before he was fully awake and coherent. He shifted around to the sound and was vaguely surprised to hear the sound coming from Ron. Jake de-transformed and shuffled tiredly to the bed. "Dude, wake up. It's just a stupid scary dream." He watched as Ron jerked at the sound, looking around wildly, shaking in panic strong enough for Jake to smell even in his human form. He had expected this so he wasn't too worried.

It was when Ron started to silently cry into his pillow that Jake grew really concerned. "Hey, buddy, Ron. What's da matter?" He crept up on the bed and looked over Ron's prone form to see his face. "It was just a bad dream. Come on now." He sat, staring broodingly at the boy in front of him. "Well, I will say two things. One, you need to eat more because I can see the outline of your ribs, and two, you seriously need to quit hiding under all that fabric if ya ever want to get the ladies, dude. You're, like, 'Adonis the Greek God' sculpted."

Ron chuckled wetly, turning to look lopsidedly at his new friend. "What ever you say, man." He grew quiet again as he looked away before he sighed. "Sorry for waking you. Recently, I've had some weird dreams that feel really real. Aunt Mel's been sleeping with me sometimes so I can get few hours of down time." He shrugged his shoulder. "If it bothers you, I can sleep on the couch in the living room."

Jake felt kind of bad for Ron. Having to cuddle with the comforting presence of a living body just to get sleep? Nightmares so horrifying that a teenager boy can't just rub them off and keep going? He needed to talk to Gramps and Fuu about this. If not them, then his mom would do.

"Will you be going back to sleep tonight?"

Ron shook his head and scrunched up under the covers. "I doan wanna see anymore . . . " Jake let out a silent breath and rolled his eyes. He wasn't doing anything wrong, and his sister would never find out, so why not? Ron needed the sleep badly.

"Dude, if it won't bother you, I'll stay up here for the rest of the night. My back is really starting to kink up laying like that on the floor." It was a lame excuse, he knew it, Ron knew it, heck, anyone would know how lame it was, but Ron just shrugged and moved over to let Jake in. The back to his own was warm and breathing and comforting. He wouldn't say no to that.

He closed his eyes and didn't open them again. Jake felt Ron's breathing even out into sleep and let out his breath. When he had brought the blond home, he hadn't thought that he'd be doing this. Oh, well. He shrugged to himself and closed his eyes, mind blank and fuzzy. He'd get used to it if Ron needed it.

That morning he came to and silently celebrated that is was Saturday and that school was at the least a day and a half away. He felt the sluggishness that was extra sleep weigh down his arms and legs but resolved not to spend all day in bed . . . at least, no more than usual. It would have gone fine if there really wasn't something pinning him down. He looked around, eyes confused when a wild thatch of pale gold hair lay on his chest and the green that continued down from it to pin his arms and legs. Ron.

Okay, this was awkward. He really didn't want to wake the other boy, the bags under his eyes told of how little sleep he got, but he was going to have to go pee soon. He shimmied sideways, trying to not wake Ron, slinking out from under his head that now lay on the pillow where he had just been. The arm moved on it's own, curling up under him as if he were incredibly cold leaving Jake to fight out from under the legs. That turned out to be the easiest part.

He had been trying to figure out how he would get the blond's leg off when he had accidentally tickled behind the other boy's knee. Ron had drawn in his leg so quickly that Jake had fallen off the bed with his only leverage moving faster than he could. He whined silently as he massaged his backside and back, the painful sensation of falling like a rock was very familiar and quite unwelcome. Ignoring the pain like always, he waddled like a drunken sailor to the bathroom, thanking anyone that might hear him that it was empty. Of course, the scream from down the hall had him running back out of the bathroom moments later, business finished even if he hadn't had a shower yet.

Ron was thrashing this time from the nightmares when he opened the door, the sheets tightening around him like restraints. Jake tripped up to the bed and grabbed Ron through the covers, trying to still his limbs. "Hey, Ron, come on, buddy. Either wake up or calm down. Come on, Ron. I'm here, nothings going to get you, I promise. You're safe, Ron, you're safe. Come on, buddy, snap out it," he soothed just loud enough to be heard. Ron was slowing, the wild swinging now nothing more than hesitant jerks, the breathing that had been so erratic and panicked moments before calming into a natural rhythm. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and loosened his hold on Ron's figure.

He had to admit, Ron was a lot stronger than his thin frame deemed possible. Then again, Ron was more sculpted than any of the boys he knew, even most of the older ones. His abs could be used to wash clothes, the ridges were so solid and defined. Heck, Jake wasn't that defined and he worked out every. Single. Day. For six months. Solid. Just what in the hell did Ron do to get that way?

And since he was laying here watching Ron breathe, he might as well practice something—just nothing that might wake him prematurely. So, he did exercises with his prehensile dragon tongue and tail, learned to focus his absolute concentration on his claws so that they were the only thing to come out. His teeth and mouth morphed several times, each time with a twist. Like: get all the dragon teeth to stay in the human mouth without hurting himself or biting his own tongue, or his human teeth to transfer to the dragon form.

"Ouch!" He had bitten his tongue while transferring all his dragon teeth to his human mouth and tasted the metallic copper of blood. He whined and reached a hand up to check his prehensile tongue, poking it forlornly as it continued to bleed. Jake grabbed a pillow case off one of the pillows and held it to his mouth only to hear: "Dude, you could have woke me up, ya know."

Ron. How much had he seen? Oh, Gramps was gonna get him for this one but good! "Buth, thuth, oo nheeheh theh thleehp."

Ron looked at Jake, noticed his mouth full of cotton and rolled his eyes. "If you're going to talk, try doing so without half a pillow case stuffed in your mouth. But," Ron sat up and turned to the side to hide his little . . . well, not exactly little problem and bent his knees to his chest. "Living with my cousins, dealing with super genius twins and listening to Rufus . . . you said, and I quote: But, dude, you needed the sleep."

Jake snorted at him, eyes glaring. Ron stuck his tongue out at him and bounced off the bed, never once letting Jake see him from the front, and grabbed his bag for a mad dash to the bathroom. He grimaced at the feeling of old sweat and dirt clinging to him and called, "Hey, Jake, is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Yeah sure, man. Go for it. Mom's got Hailey at ballet classes and Dad's at work until six. Gramps is a late sleeper on Saturdays and my aunt is done gone so no one's gonna be walking in on ya." Ron felt a blush come up but ignored it for the heavenly shower that awaited him.

Ron looked down at the waiting erection that, even going so far as to think of Draken naked and doing the hula, wouldn't go down. He sighed into his hands and let the water pound his back as he thought about his options . . . which were few. Ignoring the little voice in his head that he might get caught, which he refuted there being only himself and Jake here, he grabbed the warm velvet and slowly pumped himself to a quiet completion, washing his hands and ignoring the guilt he felt for having to do so. All boys ended up having to do that some time or other, right? So what was there to be ashamed of?

Nothing.

Ignoring the emotion, he set about washing his hair with deft fingers, realizing finally that his hair was getting somewhat too long. He shrugged. He'd deal. Taking his time, he thought about everything that had happened and hoped that Grandpa had some answers for him. Or Jake's mom might, but that just made him cringe. Uh, no. Especially since he was going to ask why he was all but sexing up the other boy. He had loved KP like no one else, but she had hurt him to the point that he would never heal even if they got back together. He knew it. Just like he knew there was something wrong with his dreams. The dreams . . .

He sighed as the luffa was soaped up. They were getting so bad that he was becoming afraid to sleep, paranoid in his waking hours, stressed out. Maybe the old man knew of something that would let him sleep without dreams for a few hours. He'd have to ask.


	5. A Meeting of the Strangest People

Jake had watched Ron all but run to the bathroom and tried to figure out what was up with him. Then he realized that Ron hadn't let himself be seen from the front since he woke up. His face heated when he found the most plausible reason why and ignored a voice that sounded like Trixie pointing it out in blunt detail why he was blushing. He squashed the voice . . . with much relish.

When Ron asked to take a shower, he shrugged and came back with a positive response. He maybe shouldn't have included Hailey and his parents in that, but hey, the guy really didn't need to worry about it. His stomach grumbled at him then, and not in a good way. Jake hoped that by ignoring it, the need to vomit would go away. It didn't and he waited until Ron was in the shower before he decided to go in. No need for the other boy to witness this, and the shower head was so loud the noise he would make wouldn't even register. Of course, that had been his intention.

When he opened the door, he looked sideways at the shower to make sure Ron was indeed under the spray of the loud shower piece and promptly felt his entire body seize up. Those scars . . . they looked like something a dragon was capable of, and that . . . ho-shit, Ron was sex on legs! He felt himself gasp as he watched Ron jerk himself off with slow movements, the quiet moan that signaled the release hitting Jake like an explosive arrow to the gut. Forgetting why he had been in there, he closed the door and leaned against it, tempted to pound his head against the heavy wood.

Okay, situation assessment . . .

One: Ron had been his friend for less that a day. Two: There was something freaky with said friend's dreams. Three: Friend had to have human contact to sleep at night . . . well, humanoid contact. Whatever. Four: He looked really, really good. And not in a platonic way. There was something wrong with him. Jake, that is. Ron . . . Ron was fine. Really, really fine—will my mind please stay on track? But he, the Jake-man, liked girls. They had boobs and inverted crevices. Boys had . . . well, what he had. So, he was not having those—those thoughts about Ron, a friend of less than a day and bad nightmares that bring a teenage boy to his knees crying. Jake closed his eyes and resolved to talk to Gramps today. His life was just going so off course.

He trudged to the stairs and sighed again for like the millionth time in less than two days. Shaking the depressing thoughts from his mind, he set out for the kitchen, starting a large breakfast. Half way through, Ron came down, hair dripping on a towel around his neck, chest bare and pale, pants hanging low with black clingy briefs in view. Jake gulped and turned back to the scrambled eggs to keep them from burning.

Grandpa came in, later than his usual waking hour, and sat himself at the table with a large cup of coffee. Ron had some for himself and loaded up on the cream and just a little bit of sugar. "Would you like coffee with your cream, Ron?" Gramps asked the boy. Ron chuckled and shook his head.

"No, I prefer less bitter coffee. I'm just waiting for the caffeine to hit my blood, though. You'll be ready to kill me then!" Ron did smile, so brightly and with so little pain, Gramps shot a look at his grandson when both boys were preoccupied, Ron with his coffee and Jake with breakfast. The door bell rang and Grandpa rose to answer it, waving both boys back to the table.

"No, no, I shall get it, young ones. Sit, eat. We have a long day today," he smiled to himself when Jake groaned and Ron punched his fist into the air in triumph. When he reached the door, Trixie was standing there, hands on hips with Spud cowering behind his girlfriend. "Ah, do you wish to come and work with us today? It will be hard and long, but the benefits will last."

Trixie had looked ready to murder his grandson for skipping out on them from yesterday, but now she deflated. He knew that she understood Jake's position as the American Dragon. He was a guardian of them all and he needed all the training that was available. And Spud would convince his girlfriend that they could wait for Jake to join them later. What boy doesn't want to spend time with his girlfriend alone, after all?

Trixie sighed ad rolled her eyes. "Fine, but he better meet us tomorrow or I'm gonna break his head!"

"Yeah," pipped in Spud. "Early in the morning!"

"Spud?"

"Yeah, Trixie?"

"We are going to church in the morning with Nana. We'll be by after lunch tomorrow, Gramps!" Trixie drug her boyfriend away, Spud asking what it was he said. Trixie ignored him and trudged along.

Grandpa closed the door and readied himself to face the two teens in the kitchen again. One: he was going to tell Ron about them, Jake and himself, being dragons. Two: Ron was going to have to visit the magic portion of the city. Not too hard and only two things on his MUST BE DONE to-do list. Oh, today was going to be very long . . .

After breakfast, Gramps set Ron down to have a real long discussion on what he and Jake both were, not to mention Hailey. Ron asked valid questions, surprisingly to both the dragons, and none of those stupid "oh-oh, can he do this too?" kind of questions.

"So, Jake can fly to a thousand feet below airliner air space even if it isn't recommended due to the lack of oxygen, breathe fire hot enough to at the very least soften metal not magically made or anything inscribed with runes, and can see with the vision of a hawk even in low lighting unless in total dark . . . am I missing any of the key powers?"

Gramps silently cheered that Ron had hit all the high points along with the low of each power so easily. If the boy had been a woman or at the very least a child bearer, he'd be a perfect mate for Jake. "No, young man, you know them all magnificently!"

Ron grinned manically. "Boo-hoo-YAH!"

"Now . . . on to training!"

Jake groaned and grabbed Ron's discarded towel off the back of one of the chairs before trudging to the roof. After Gramps set Ron up to meditate, after much grumbling from the blond teen, Jake grabbed up the older man to his corner on the roof. "Gramps . . ."

The older man looked at his grandson with some worry. "Yes, Jake, what bothers you so?"

Jake rubbed at his neck. "Well, Ron's been having nightmares. I mean, real doozies if what I saw was normal, and I was wondering what kind of manifestation would cause that. He fixes stuff, yeah, but is it possible for him to be an empath or future seer too? Like, have more than one power?"

Gramps was startled by this. He truthfully hadn't thought about it, and now that Jake had brought it up, he was going to have to cancel with Cleo Patrish. She would be upset, but it was for the better until he was sure. "Yes, young one, it is possible and quite foolish of this old one not to have seen it before. Thank you for steering my thoughts in the right direction, young dragon. Sometimes this silly old man forgets the newness of young powers."

And that was that. It wasn't brought up again in practice and Jake let his grandfather stew over that for a while.

It was after lunch that Gramps pulled Ron and Jake with him to the gate of the magical community. Ron flinched often enough when one of the more nasty creatures came close making it hard to blend in. It had been explained, after an affronted Harpy gotten catty about it, that Ron had had a bad run in with one of the more vicious of the dangerous kinds of magical beings and that since he could feel the malevolence of their powers, he made an instinctive move to keep from being hurt. The Harpy and all the surrounding "evil" powered beings went to goo and cooed over Ron telling him not to be afraid. They weren't all like that, after all.

Of course, it was all true, and when Monkey Fist, Sheego, and Draken came up, the Harpy Sisters went into overprotective mode. Gramps had been struck dumb . . . as had Jake. The Harpy Sisters were notorious for being bullies and terrorizing the populace. Only elves and innocents were lavished on in such a manner.

"Just, please, don't cause Jake problems, okay?" Ron had asked the sisters with the most potent puppy eyes Jake had ever seen and Ron didn't even seem to notice that the entire alley was willing to do as he said if only to make him happy. Jake fought down the urge to tear them all apart. That just wouldn't do of the protector.

::At the Possibles::

The Tweebs . . . or better known to Ron as the Twins Jim and Tim, were plotting. Big Things. Things that usually went boom or caused massive self-destructive buttons to be handy. And those Things were usually on this side of (in)sane. They caused or made Bad Things happen.

That is why a brain surgeon and rocket scientist should never have children. Bad Things happen too the poor sods who mess with the order of organized chaos called life.

"Hicka-bicka-boo?"

"Hoo-sha . . . "

"Hey, Tweebs, what are you doing now?" Kimberly, the now Enemy Agent, was peeking down at them from the lab door. Watching Dexter's Lab had been a Bad Thing. No, not for them, for everyone else.

"Working . . . " said one.

"Studying . . . " said the other.

"So butt out, Kimberly!" They chanted together. Kimberly rolled her eyes and told them that dinner was ready. They thanked her (with gritted teeth) and went back to work. Their master piece had to be done before Wade went to see Ron and take the new stuff. They grinned in matching terror-inducing smiles.

"Done?"

"One or two things left. Any . . . ?"

"Dad hid the rest of the rocket fuel. Maybe . . . ?"

"Ask Wade?"

"Yep. Hicka-bicka-boo?"

"HOO-SHA!" they high-fived, smiling manically. It would only take a few Things before Bad Things happened to . . . Kimberly, the traitor.

::Three Days Later::

Ron massaged the bruises that had bruises, groaning when the steam of the hot water made him wince. Since Jake went to school alone right now, Ron was left to train with Grandpa from sunrise to sunset . . . if he lasted that long. Usually, he passed out before anything like that could happen. Being in shape . . . that wasn't the problem. Being able to remember to breathe as he did so, ah, there was the problem. Screaming and yelling was not conductive to lung capacity or breathing skills. Meditation was numero uno on his list of To-Do and Conquer It list that had let "fear of KP's rejection" fall off. It had been replaced by: "Figure out why he was going weird around Jake and fix it." Okay, so meditation had fallen to second place, but whatever. He'd get it soon enough.

He grimaced. He would never be big . . . well, broad shouldered and thickly muscled. He'd asked Grandpa and the old man had given him several reasons why, one being the fighting style that now coated his entire genetic makeup. While he would always be well muscled and slim, he'd never ever bulk out like most other boys. Second were his genetics. He didn't know who his birth parents were, but his mom and dad had already had the "We-adopted-you" speech back when he was seven and stuck inside for several days with food allergies after the disastrous science class field-trip.

So, whoever had him was severely thin and willowy. Just what he needed. As if he wasn't feminine enough without that little thing. Tall and thin, yet softly rounded hips . . . like a skinny woman. That sucked.

"Ron?" Grandpa's voice came through the door and startled Ron a bit, he hitting his head on the shampoo rack.

"Yes?"

"When you come out, I want you to come to the roof. No more practical sessions, this time," Ron breathed out in relief until . . . "but we will be working on your meditation. Wear loose clothing and no shoes." Ron sighed in annoyance. He couldn't help it if he had a problem sitting still for longer than ten minutes. He just couldn't stand not being able to jump up and run around all the time. He was active, always moving. Whatever. He'd do what he was told.

But meditation sucked. It sucked butt monkeys! He had already went through the door that signified his everyday life, the balance of himself, his parents, the Twins, Wade . . . he refused to go through the door with KP written on it.

"Sure, Grandpa. I'll be out in a bit," he said through the shower and door. Even if the shower was super loud, yelling loud enough usually got through.

Ten minutes later, still drying his hair, Ron stepped on the roof, shirtless and bare-footed, baggy sweats hanging on by some tiny string and a prayer. "You needed me, Grandpa?"

Grandpa gave him an appraising look, taking in all the scars that were so light as to be silver that littered his chest, back and arms. A few were nice shiny burn marks, some that looked to be made by large weapons and shrapnel, and a few that reminded him of whips and long chains. Jake might have already seen them . . . What did they look like to the young Dragon? And just what had this boy been up to? "Come, sit, and be patient."

Ron bit his lip and did as he was told, still rubbing the ever-lengthening hair with the towel. It was getting harder to put off that visit to the barber's.

"Now, I want you to relax, sit comfortably, and breathe in . . . and out with my voice." Ron did so, sitting Indian-style, hands in his lap. "In . . . and then out. Hear the sound of your breath in your lungs, coming in and leaving, slowly and with ease. Feel the edges of conscious thought leave you to a simple darkness, the room of your mind. Breathe in . . . and out, listen to the sound it makes, feel it fill you with life and release from you. The room in your mind, find the door, the one door that is the Monkey-Fist style. Do you see it?"

Ron nodded slowly, so deeply in his own mind the sound of Grandpa's voice was like static that came through . . . but only just. He touched the door, hearing the voice direct him. The door opened with silent foreboding making Ron shiver. He pushed past the uncomfortable feeling and stepped through into the chaos of the room. There was nothing that was quite solid, the room overflowing with men doing things that he'd never seen before, never encountered even with . . . her. The only solid thing in this world inside his mind was the rock that sat firmly planted in the center, the point of which he could watch without becoming the room or having to involve himself in the fighting. So, he sat and watched, beginning to understand what it was that he had become a part of. Marital Arts was a fascinating thing to watch, to see others achieve, but he'd never known that this was here.

The longer he watched, the more he understood about what he was able to do. Someone that was bulky would have a really hard time pulling off several of the easier feats, but even someone incredibly short but thin, say Grandpa tiny, would be able to do even the most advanced tricks. Where as someone that was like, say, Time Skip Wade or Tweebs, even with their extensive practice and practical abilities would flounder constantly since they were built more brawler style. It seemed he was literally made perfect for this, genetics wise.

He saw a move that he'd performed only once before, executed with flawless energy, the five-foot-nothing man taking on the large ox-like being and flipping him to his face. Another dodged so gracefully on the other side, it seemed as if he were dancing around his opponent. He could do this. He could. He was perfect for this, and he would figure out how he was going to do it.

The sudden jolt of his awareness came even with him in the secret room. It was familiar even after such a short time. It was wild, fierce . . . worried like crazy. Jake. He was outside his mind, outside his body, but Ron felt him like a sting of electricity to the system. He sighed and looked at the room. He was surprised that occupants of the room bowed to him, aware he was there and watching, learning . . . and about to leave. He bowed back, smiling self-consciously at the display before he turned back to the open door and let himself out. The room that had been black earlier in nothingness was now a light rainbow of pinks and reds, greens and blues. Calming, but not overwhelming.

"Ron? . . . RON. Come on, Ron, don't make me come in there after you," said the disembodied voice. Jake's hands were on his shoulders and the red intensified slightly before Ron could pull himself away from his own mind and into the living world.

"Hm?" was all he got out before his stomach protested it's empty state making a loud rumbling that was just on this side of being thunder.

Jake was kneeling in front of him, eyes bright with worry and hands shaking his shoulders so lightly as to be holding them instead. The dark-haired boy cracked a smile and helped him to his feet . . . which were asleep and led to Ron holding on to Jake for dear-life.

"Whoa, my legs are like tingly jell-o here," Ron commented without thinking about it, slumping against Jake as his legs gave way. "Hello!"

Jake laughed, holding him up with dragon strength, his long leathery tail popping into existence and wrapping around Ron's waist. Ron's eyebrows went up at the tail but decided he really didn't need to comment and that Jake was weird. Well, weirder than his usual weirdos. Except Monkey Fist. Ron shivered at the thought, brought back by Jake poking him. "What's got you thinking?"

Ron bit his lips to not start laughing and gave a wane smile. "I was thinking you were weird, but then I remembered Monkey Fist, the guy not the Martial Arts, and that he was even more weird than you."

Jake frowned. "How so? And why am I weird?"

"He has monkey feet . . . literally. And lots of icky, unnecessary hair everywhere. And with honest to goodness mutton chops and monkey minions. You, on the other hand, are just a really weird boy that can pop a tail out whenever he wants to, make his teeth really sharp, sees in the dark, and . . . oh, yeah, it runs in the family."

Jake couldn't believe how freaky that would be. Ron rolled his eyes and poked Jake in the forehead. Jake laughed. "Oh, yeah?"

Ron smirked, "Yeah. Hey . . . why don't cha feed me? I'm starving! And why is it dark out? I came out here just before lunch . . . "

Jake shook his head. "It's dark out because it's really late, almost ten. And if you're really hungry, we can hit the kitchen and raid the fridge."

"Boo-Yah! Fridge raiders, tally-ho!"

Jake was laughing so hard he had to grab the wall to keep up right as they navigated the stairs. "W-wha . . . was that?" He gasped out. Ron was laughing beside him, wiping a tear away from his eye and trying to get his breath back.

"I'd been spending time with the Twins before I came since KP had Ian on missions. They're ten*, so they do play . . . even if their toys are usually so advanced that even Wade goes spare trying to figure out what it is that they did. But anyway, ten year old twins and a fridge full of food. You take a guess," Ron grinned deviously at Jake.

Jake resumed their trek to the kitchen, rolling his eyes when Ron tried to stand by himself only to totter and almost fall several times. "Ya know, sitting still on a roof for close to eleven hours is not conductive to standing much less walking. So, lean on me and quit trying to kill your fool neck."

Raiding the fridge commenced without fail, Ron chowing down on several sandwiches and drinking a large glass of water. Jake was amazed the skinny boy was able to stuff that much food down. "What are you, hollow?" Ron grinned and shrugged. "Okay, so earlier on the stairs, you said something about missions. What missions?"

Ron swallowed his bite before answering, if a bit hesitant. "KP, the super-hero/super-sleuth teenage cheerleader, has her website that claims she can do anything. Well, she can and I was something of a sidekick for years since we were in preschool together. It makes for an interesting friendship, if one discounts the death rays, volcanic explosions, baby-sitting manic children, fighting the "evil" Dr. D and his "minion" Sheego, ninja-monkey hordes, enchanted weapons and artifacts, temples of enlightenment, and dealing with magic beings that are loosely allied with wherever they reside. Not your typical life, but I was never bored."

Jake gaped. "You did that?"

"M'yep. Went around the world one, two . . . " he counted off on his fingers the many times he'd been around the globe, "a total of twenty-three times, visited every continent at least twice, specifically Italy, Australia, China, and Japan three or four times a piece and Brazil in South America six or so times. Jungles are freaky, dude."

Jake had to make sure his jaw wasn't hitting the table. "That many times? No way!"

"Way! And when I get a chance, I'll let you meet Wade . . . well as close to meeting him as you can get. He might ask for blood again, that's usually how he says hi now a days. Obsessed with genetics."

Jake went pale. "Genetics?" Ron waved away his concern.

"Wade knows about the magical community, especially since the Fowl teen found him for a partnership last year. He was the one to alert me. He never did get around to convincing Kimberly that magic like that exists. Wade says that Fowl is one of the reasons that the Faye aren't underground anymore, not unless they're dangerous or just too obvious. Even then, Wade made a radical discovery for the Image Distortion Channel that everyone in the TMC is starting to use."

Jake felt his jaw drop. "No . . . way . . . "

Ron grinned at him smugly. "Way."

"Wait, so what does TMC stand for anyway?"

"Topside Magical Community. UMC—or the Underground Magical Community—is starting to get on the up-and-up, though, with Wade making it easier to bring even the half beings topside outside the designated and wizard populated areas. Dr. Folly was jumping like a kid in a candy shop when Wade told him. He's apparently a centaur and the leading researcher in advancement of the UMC in Europe and the Isles." Ron blinked at his word choice. "Is it me, or have I expanded my vocabulary since earlier today?"

Jake, still in something like shock, snapped to look at Ron and then studied him. Something was off . . . but the question was what. "I think your meditation started something. Which room today?"

Ron grinned. "Monkey Fist Martial Arts, and whoo-boy, I think I might be turned into a pretzel when I finally figure out how to do most of those moves," he scratched his head. "I mean, how do you bend back like that and all but kiss your own knees?"

Jake felt a sudden rush somewhere and decided that talking to Ron about that might not be the smartest thing he'd ever do. Just imagining the other teen being that . . . flexible . . . mmmm. Wait . . . what? Time to change the subject! "Okay, I think I figured out what's different! Your ears, they're all kind of pointy, not exactly like an elf, but close to it." He heard Ron groan and watched as the blond palmed his face. "What?"

"I . . . hate . . . this. Magical changes so totally suck." Ron fell to smack his head on the table, again and again, as if trying to beat sense into the situation. Jake winced at the meaty thunk that was repeated quite heatedly and in a strange rhythmic thump.

"Dude, unless you want the entire house coming down to see, you need to stop." Jake stood. "Time for bed?" Ron nodded and Jake set about putting things up. "Alright, come on, Mr. Angst-Ridden Teenager of Strange Circumstances. Time for bed anyway. You're going to school tomorrow!"


	6. A Nightime Condition

':.`*`.:'

Ron wrinkled his nose. Was it him, or where most of the kids here all dark and tanned with strange hair? "Jake, you never told me I would look like a pillar of marble in a dark tunnel, dude. Okay, that was a weird comparison, but still. Only three people so far are naturally blond, and all are girls that obviously go to a tanning bed and wear too much makeup. Everyone else is like, I doan know, you or Trixie. Which scares me more than you'll ever know."

Jake snickered. "Which? Trixie or me?"

"Trixie. Definitely Trixie. Sorry, dude, but you're not that scary when faced with an enraged girl with hormones like that. She's just . . . I think a female version of the Devil might work well to describe her." Jake had to concur. Trixie was Lucifer incarnate when pissed off. Never say that the girl was a push over. Ever. She'd come after you. Even the magical beings of the TMC ran like hell when she made her appearance. Smart. Smarter than her boyfriend who was clearly clueless to the girls around him trying to chat the descent looking boy up. Okay, if he was a girl, he might go for Spud now with all those slick looking muscles he was getting from his job at the Gym, but he didn't swing that way. Usually. Unless your name was Ronald Stoppable, the boy with nightmares and a dead martial arts ingrained into his mind and DNA. A boy who had befriended a super genius teen and the Twins of Terror ©, with elvish ears he wanted to touch, and the brownest eyes he'd ever seen. He felt his cheeks flush warmly and silently cursed his thoughts. He liked GIRLS. Girls, damn it!

"Okay, class time. Come on, Jake, snap out of it," Ron said, tugging his arm along down the hall, therefore him as well.

And so the day passed, the crazy teacher teaching them about things he didn't understand in the first place causing Ron to burst into laughter and get his first detention . . . until Jake diverted the teacher's irate attention to him instead and said it was his fault. It kind of was since he had forgotten to warn Ron. The next several classes went smoothly, especially since Ron informed Jake in a whisper that "this is so easy now that someone explains it to me" causing the ebony boy to chuckle quietly.

When they let out, Ron told Jake he was going to go home to his Aunt who should be back already. Jake agreed, silently growling about it.

He was startlingly quiet on the way home, making Trixie, who had caught up shortly after Ron had left off to his Aunt's place, glare with worry. She had trouble expressing emotions sometimes.

"What's got you all tangled up?" the dark girl asked with her ever present accent.

Jake startled hard enough that he lost control of the skateboard and fell on his face. Trixie stopped and laughed hard, holding her sides. Jake grumbled and grouched, grabbing up the board and stomping off. Trixie followed, trying hard to stop the gasping need to laugh like a loon. His lips twitched but he resisted. Trixie caught it and relaxed. Ah, he was just too deep in thought again.

"What deep thoughts you have, Long. Care to share them?"

Jake let out a breath. Trixie would be much more understanding than anyone he knew except Gramps. "Well . . . I think I've found someone I really, really like, Trix, but it's . . . complicated."

Trixie rolled her eyes. "Not surprising there, Jake. So, why is it so complicated, huh?"

Jake swallowed hard. "Well, first off, they don't know and second, well, um, it's, um, yeah—right . . . it's, it's RonandIhavenoideawhat'sgoingonwithme!"

Trixie rubbed at her ear as if cleaning out water. "What?"

"I already told you," Jake blushed so hard, he wondered if his head would pop off from the pressure. "I won't say it again."

Trixie gave him "The Eye"and slowly smirked at the boy in front of her.

"No, you didn't . . . oh-ho, boy, you did . . . " she sang quietly. "I knew you were at least bi," Jake spluttered incoherently but the dark girl ignored him to continue in a whisper as she walked. "But this? Oh, I have to tell you, Jake, mah boy, this has been a long time in coming. With that evil little head-hunting bitch out of the country, I'll make good on my promise."

"P-promise? What promise? Trixie? Trixie?What have you done now!" Jake jogged to keep up and tried to keep passersby from hearing them, blushing so furiously, his face matched his bright neon red shirt. "Please tell me you didn't vow on this, Trixie."

"Oh," she turned to glare at him. "I haven't done that . . . " yet, she amended to herself, "but I won't have that skank running around looking for your head. Not anymore," Trixie growled out very reminiscent of Jake's dragon form. Ooo, he wasn't gonna touch that one. Not right now and not in the immediate future. Ron was right: dragon or not, Trixie was far more terrifying as just a human woman than he would ever be. Heaven forbid if she actually formed any powers in the next year or two.

"W-well, good, uh, good night, er, Trixie. See you at, um, at school?"

Trixie hugged Jake and he heard his spine crackle and pop. Trixie smiled at him and kissed his forehead in a more forward show of affection than usual. Jake rubbed his face as Trixie sashayed off around the corner, her skateboard under her arm and helmet in hand. Jake shook his head. Trixie was . . . she was just so weird sometimes. He shook it off and went on home.

The rest of the day went without incident until it was bed time. Jake couldn't sleep now, not without someone with him. He liked the warmth of another living body laying beside him, the soothing heat of a person he knew and respected. But what kept him from his bed were the nightmares. Nightmares he'd never really had before, not even after all that had happened with him being the American Dragon for several years.

It was something that Ron had tried to describe once, late night-early in the morning to him after a really bad night when even Jake couldn't keep away the night horrors. He replayed it in his mind and shivered.

Held so still, the screams making him sick. He couldn't move, he couldn't save the one screaming, hearing the feminine voice beating against his skull. He heard another sound, the scream of someone he knew was close to him, like the other half of his soul. He tried to breathe, but the fear for them, the feeling of entrapment, held his lungs still . . .

He shook away the memory and shivered. The taste of bile and fear still coated his tongue and made him gag. If it was this bad here . . . how was Ron coping? Jake felt real fear tingle up his spine. Forgetting he was only wearing sleeping pants, he opened his window and let himself fall as he swiftly and silently flowed into his dragon form, gliding on an unexpected updraft. He flew swiftly with little noise and only the shoo-shwump of his leathery wings beating the air telling of where he was. He landed deftly on the balcony outside Ron's room, transforming back to his human body and pushing open the unlocked glass door.

Ron was on his bed, stripped to his boxers, sweating and tossing with little keening cries making Jake's heart ache. Making a soothing murmur, he crawled over to the blond boy and wrapped himself around him, trying to stop the thrashing. Ron quieted quickly, as he had become prone to do, and curled up in a shivering huddle against Jake. Jake soothed a warm hand down his bare back, glad that he couldn't quite feel every rib this time around. The blond was finally eating more and it showed. Ron had already grown two inches, making him a good six inches taller than Jake and, while it galled Jake that he was so short, he was glad that his friend was getting better.

His thoughts turned sluggish, his eyelids drooping with the effort to keep awake . . . He laid his head against Ron's back that was turned towards him and wrapped his arms securely around the blond's waist, legs shifting into something of a shelf behind Ron's own drawn up legs. Calling on his tail, he pulled the covers over them and closed his eyes as the comforting heat of someone, Ron, heated him.

':.`*`.:'

::Previously At Jakes House::

"Mom! MOM!" Hailey was jumping in place beside her bed, "Jake left! He opened his window and flew away!"

Mrs. Long jumped up, staring at her child and hoping that it just been an odd dream. "Why do you know this, Hailey?"

Hailey tilted her head down in something like guilt. "I . . . I wanted Jake to let me sleep with him, since I kept having this nightmare. He did it with Ron, why won't he do that with me?" The little girl quietly sniffled and he mother grabbed her close.

"Ron was a special case. No one else here, not even Fuu or Grandfather with all their magic, could keep Ron from his nightmares except Jake. Ron has to have someone, like Jake, to make him better. That's probably where Jake went, if he felt the pull of another nightmare. Sometimes only those you really trust can make things that hurt you or scare you go away, baby girl, but you really, really have to trust that person with everything you are. Ron did that with Jake whether he knows it or not. So, Jake is the only one alive that can help him," she smiled as her precious little girl finally understood, her eyes widening with realization. Hailey smiled sweetly for her mother.

"Can I sleep in here instead, then, tonight? Please?" How could she say no? She laughed softly and kissed her baby on her forehead, tucking her between her and her husband.

"Good night, my little angel. Sleep well."

':.`*`.:'

Ron woke feeling warm and so comfortable. He snuggled further into the warm, firm pillow under his head and left side . . . left side? He didn't have a body pillow. Heck, his pillow was quite small but bumpy and well used, his favorite of all the others he had left at home. So, with a little bit of worry, he opened his eyes to see . . . skin. Lots of bronzed, firmly toned skin. With a bellybutton and this line of curly downy hair that arrowed down into black pants. His face heated. He was using Jake as a pillow again . . .

Wait, aren't I at Aunt Mel's? He looked around at the room and sighed that yes he was. Then . . . why was Jake here? He peeked up at the face that was so soft in sleep. Huh, he looks so . . . he wasn't sure what Jake looked like, but he knew that he liked it . . . quite a bit. Okay, time to head this off. Ron settled himself away from Jake, curling up against the warmth, at his side, hand touching Jake's limp fingers as he pulled the cover up over their shoulders.


	7. A New Hope and an Old Dream

':.`*`.:'

Jake's mother gave him leave to spend his nights with Ron to make sure the boy didn't have nightmares. That had been almost a month ago. Aunt Mel, like a second mother to them both, left on odd days to go work for her company, usually no less that a week. If she could, she came back early, treating them to Dunkin' Donuts and Espresso Double-shot Mocha with extra chocolate. This, Jake had told them, he could get used to quite easily.

It had been one incident that had brought Jake to ask Ron something he really didn't want to discuss, but knew that Jake might be able to help his aunt.

"If Aunt Mel loves kids so much, why doesn't she have some of her own?"

Ron cringed but was glad it was late at night and in his room that this had come up. He'd expected it for a while now, but Jake finally cinched it. "She . . . she's apparently barren, Jake. It's not that she doesn't want to, it's that she can't."

"Adoption?"

Ron shook his head as he leaned against the wall. "No, that didn't work out. Because of her job, Aunt Mel wasn't even given the chance to change professions before they told her under no circumstances, absolutely not. She's tried three different agencies and no one lets her get farther than the front door before turning her away."

Jake winced. "Aunt Mel . . . she must have been devastated. So, now, she turns all that mothering on you?"

"Yeah," Ron rubbed his leg with agitation. "If I could give my Aunt anything, I'd give her a child. She wants one so badly, to "feel one growing in her womb" she once told me. I just, I don't know, Mum and Aunt Mel are magical in a sense, but not like you or your family. Yours is an introverted extrovert kind of magic, while Mum and Aunt Mel are solely introverted. Could that interfere with her having a baby?"

Jake stilled where he was laying on the bed, head by Ron's feet, his own feet near Ron's head against the wall. "What kind of magic?"

Ron studied that feeling, mapping it out carefully. His eyes widened when he realized that the magic was pooling like an underground ocean in one location. "Her womb, it pools like water of a sea in her womb and it's all wild magic. No wonder she can't have babies. That kind of power needs the channels already formed or the baby of a normal man gets beat over it's unborn head with a magical mallet!"

Jake felt his breath still. "Holy . . . Aunt Mel is a total invert? It doesn't go anywhere outside her body? And it goes there?"

"Only something full of magic already could be born to her . . . She'll be ecstatic to know she can have babies, but who would give a woman a baby with magic like that?" Ron mused sadly. "I mean, seriously, who wants to give up a child with that much power?"

Jake grinned. "I'll look around. Some don't even want the magic, but if Aunt Mel wants a baby, we could see if she can talk them into it!"

Ron smiled. "With a little guidance, that kid would be another Merlin. Hmph, well, that's that," he mock scowled. "Another Myrrlin Emrys to add to the list then." He smiled softly at the thought. Great-many times Grandpa Abby was one of many Myrrlin to be adopted into the family. He'd had children with a "cousin" and ever since then, when the potential was born, Myrrlin or Emrys was added to the middle of the name. The fact that Ron had been adopted didn't stop them from adding Myrrlin to his own name, even if he had thought his Mum had lost her mind when he found out what it meant. Now . . . not so much.

Jake shook his head. "Myrrlin? Like Merlin Myrrlin?" Ron's mischievous grin confirmed it and Jake grabbed the pillow from under his head and whacked Ron with it upside the head. "You—you utter ass! Grr," he growled, the sound of his dragon coming to the fore.

Ron laughed at him and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It was in the family for years, generations before I was even a thought in my birth mother's mind. It seems that with each generation, there is one who can't or won't have children, so they seek out a child or two . . . or seven or eight. One great-great-great-great-great aunt adopted seven boys, once, and one girl. That was one of the biggest adoptions the family has ever made. The orphanage didn't much care at the time as long as the kids were gone, so they let her have them at the minimum price."

Jake's jaw dropped. "Daaaang, and I thought our family had awesome magic. Yours takes the cake, my man."

Ron played at preening himself, chuckling at the cowlick he'd somehow come to have through the day. Jake laughed, again chucking the pillow at Ron's head and grabbing it back up before the other boy could. "Ya know, we might as well get some sleep. Even if we only have a half day tomorrow, our spazz of a teacher is going to give us a test over the "magical properties" of dragon's blood and unicorn hooves."

Ron yawned, grabbing his pillow from under Jake in a feint, and rolling to the wall to keep from getting pushed off. Jake had tipped over the side, bouncing on the carpet with a yelp. He growled again and sat up, fingers drumming on the bed spread. Ron's cheery "good night" earned him a swat with a scaly tail. "Whatever, you weirdo. Go to sleep," Jake groused at the other teen, curbing his harsh words with a gentle touch on Ron's shoulder as Jake curled around him.

':.`*`.:'

"WADE!" It was nearly two weeks later on a Saturday and Ron was at the shop with Jake and Trixie, the dark girl cleaning the dust and dirt, Jake taking over the counter and Ron fixing some of the more complex, stylized electronics. The unexpected visit from a close friend, one who was super smart and always willing to help . . . from behind a television screen, no less, made him wonder if he was dreaming. "You're out of your house? Without a machine or your mother driving you to do so? Oh mah gawh, has the Apocalypse started and I just not know about it?"

Wade laughed. Though while he was shorter than Ron now, Ron knew just how big Wade could be. He'd seen the boy's dad and that guy was like a walking, talking mountain of muscles. Behind him was another teenager, a young man with dark hair and skin so pale Ron would have said vampire if not for the bright, crystal blue eyes. So far as he knew, all vamps had gold, red, or violet eyes. Jake told him so. He held out his hand in greeting. "Ronald Myrrlin Stoppable. Nice to meet one of my closest friend's business partners. By the way, the young lady by the door is Trixie," he leaned in while making sure to catch Wade in his quiet advice. "Try not to make her angry . . . ever."

He dropped the boy's hand and pointed to Jake. "That is Jake Long, grandson to the owner of the Old and Used Electronics that you are currently standing in. Come in and get comfortable . . . ?"

"Artemis, Artemis Fowl," the boy intoned softly. Ron nodded his head.

"Ah, so you're Artemis? The TMC and UMC keep going on and on about you, dude. I should have known it would be another "Wade". I'm surrounded by genii, super-sleuths and magical-powers. It's almost unfair," he joked as he went back to the DVD player that was in the habit of spitting CD's and DVD's at people. "If'n ya don't mind, I've got some work to get to. Wade, buddy, come here and look at this."

Ron didn't seem to notice the tornado he'd let loose in the room with those announcements. Trixie threw her dust rag at Ron and smacked him square in the face. "Boy, you don't just drop the bomb like that. I should come over there and box your ears. Really, what were you raised by? Magpies? Oh, I'm gonna get you," Ron gulped and, in a move so fast everyone was left wondering how he did it, hid behind Wade and Artemis.

"Dude, ya gotta save me. Please say you have something that might, ya know, appease her or something . . . " Ron cowered further behind the two other boys as the pretty African American girl stalked him. "Or at least don't let her get me!"

Wade snickered and pulled out a bag from his overstuffed backpack. "It's alright, Miss Trixie. I'm used to it and I've warned my colleague about Ron's habit. But, since I know you are a friend of his and Jake's, I brought you something." He handed her a small cube and told her to hit the blue button . . . later.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief and sneaked off to where Jake stood, shaking his head. "I wish I could charm Trixie around like that sometimes. She's a hellcat in human form, I tell ya. I've known her for years and this is the first time she's been charmed right out of her anger . . . think Wade will teach us how?"

Ron shrugged. "No idea but he might if he has time. He might just be visiting, or he's got something he's got to do here. Which ever way it goes, I haven't a clue."

Wade finally calmed Trixie down, the cube and a mini COM Link that would let her call her family from anywhere were fast on the way of softening her up like butter. Artemis calmly and detached watched the proceedings with a professional air. At least, until he started staring at Ron and Jake.

Ron, to him, was an enigma of the worst sort. The kind that might make or break the plans of someone like him or Wade. "No plan is fool proof, for a fool is so ingenious" was a well used quote that he thought appropriate for this boy. As he watched the boy, his brow rose into his hair line. Jake, he knew from previous conferences, was a magical being, a dragon to be precise. What had him blinking in amazement was that his lenses picked up magical particles streaming like a swift river from the Stoppable boy to wrap around Jake. This was something he'd never seen before.

He might just have to contact Holly about this and get the fairy's input.

"Hey, Artemis?" Ron called. Artemis shook himself from his musings and felt himself flush when he noticed that Ron had gone back to work. He hadn't even noticed the other boy move. He could not do that, loose focus of his surroundings.

"Yes?"

"Come 'ere for a second. Tell me what this is. Wade says you're like God with unusual tech, so come on and tell me what this . . . this thing is! It's like a parasite," he held out the opened box, pointing with a look of disgust at the metallic blob that pulsed like it was alive. Artemis had never seen anything like it before and he cringed when the blob moved of its own violation.

"I have never seen such a creature in existence before now. Let me contact Holly Short and then we shall see." He flipped open a thin, palm-sized cell phone that lit up like optic fibers. "Yes, Holly?"

Ron started laughing at the boy as he heard a tiny mechanical voice over the phone in high static. Artemis held the phone from his ear and blinked at it. "I'm sorry, Holly, I have no idea what has happened with that. Folly was in charge of the project and hasn't contacted me in three weeks." The shouting stopped, the silence strange after the sudden fountain of screams. "Are we going to be reasonable?" He waited a second. "We have a . . . a mass that I've never seen or heard of before. It's silver, blob-like and moves under it's own power. It might be intelligent, but of that I'm not quite sure. It was found in an old DVD player that Mr. Stoppable was reconstructing."

Ron poked it, the silvery thing wiggling like jello. He snickered and did it again. "Heh, this thing is kind of cool. Like silly putty!" As he reached again for the blob, he cut his finger on one of the sharper corners and yelped when blood dripped from the tiny wound. Wade, Trixie and Jake just palmed their face.

"Dang it," Ron said as he studied the cut. "It's not that bad, but it's going to hurt for days, now. It feels like one of those paper cuts!" he whined. So saying, he grabbed a band-aid from his pocket and fixed himself up, ignoring that Artemis suddenly leaned over the exposed guts of the DVD player to get a better look at the blob.

There, sitting on the silver thing, was a single drop of bright red blood. Artemis startled when the blob actually reached out and covered the blood, pulling it into itself. Strange.

"Hey, Wade?"

"What, Ron? I'm trying to find your new Com Link gear," grouched the genius boy in good spirits.

Ron stuck out his tongue. "Well, wait to do that at the apartment. Aunt Mel knows about this, even directed me here to see Grandpa Long, so she won't mind having a few odd people or things in the house. Actually . . . " Ron tapped his chin. "She would be bouncing like a kid at Christmas. Which, by the way, is a good excuse for you to meet her. Aunt Mel is a really nice woman . . . "

Jake perked up. "Hey, Ron, what about the baby thing? Ya think that those two might know someone?"

"HUH?" Ron's jaw kind of dropped with the base box from the DVD player. "Um, excuse me, but Mel will skin me alive if I let her know that I've told anyone. I prefer to not be tacked up on her wall like a trophy."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just bring the blob and we'll let Trixie run the store. She's far better at it anyway. I have a problem of getting into fights and trashing the place, or you get hurt." He didn't notice Trixie standing behind him with a smile on her face.

"You think I do a better job?" Jake jumped and it was if his hair stood on end. Well, more so than usual, anyway.

"Y-yeah, um, Trixie. At least I know the store will still be standing, customers satisfied and bullies taken care of. You're perfect for the place until I can keep fights from happening. Then you can go and do your own thing and not have to worry about us or this place that much." Jake slunk down, cowering from the blow he knew might be coming.

"Oh, you silly boy, I'm not going to hit you. Though it could have been done better, that was one of the nicest things you've ever said to me!" Trixie gave him a noogie before shoving him out the door. "Go cause your mayhem elsewhere!"

Jake looked at Wade as he made his way outside with Artemis. Ron followed closely behind them, carrying the DVD player and his pockets bursting with his tools. Ten minutes of walking later, Ron had them at his Aunt's apartment and had the door open. "Welcome to the Bachelorette's home pad. While the walls are pink and purple, you'll be glad to notice that my room is done in grays and blues. No pink or purple in sight!" Ron gave a mock walk through, taking them all to his bedroom . . . which looked like a giant mess of clothes and bed covers in one corner with a bare desk in the other.

"A little extreme in the differences, Ron," Wade commented with a comfortable grin in place. "Alright, then, let's get you set up and on the world wide satellite system!" Ron rolled his eyes and did as he was told, setting up the tower and monitor, shoving the file cabinet under the desk and to the wall, filling it with odds and ends in an order that made no sense whatsoever, and digging out his old surge protector. Once he had it all hooked up and running smoothly, Wade stepped back and grinned at Ron. "Want to test it?"

Ron whooped with a "Boo-hoo-YAH!" before setting himself down in the old chair with a flourish. "Now let's see what we've got here, shall we? Internet? Yes, full strength. Military intelligence hook ups? Hmm . . . ah, here they are. Need to let them know I moved and that I need to have all deliveries redirected here. Oh. No . . . way. It's that guy with the air force! Um, no, dude, not going to take flying lessons, last time was enough and I never, ever want to do that again." Ron mumbled a bit more, freaking out Jake and Artemis, though Artemis didn't show it. Wade was at his shoulder making sure he understood all the new controls that hadn't ever been seen by the market and gave a basic lessons lecture before telling him about the newest site that he was connected to: and . ((Not real, don't look))

"You can reverse the second portions, but I wouldn't advise doing so. Everyone in the UMC is clamoring for Artemis and the TMC is no better when it comes to me. Never put Holly's or Folly's name in there. Bad things might happen. Anyway, where is Holly? She's usually here by now."

Artemis leaned in the door way. "She was getting ready for the LEP re-con yearly ball. As one of the few women on the force, and one of the best known force members, she has to be there. I called her as she was leaving to go. Give it another hour and she'll be here."

Ron smiled. "So, who's hungry? I'll cook!" Artemis and Jake watched as Wade drooled before he could pull himself together.

"I don't care if I'm hungry or not, feed me, too!" Wade ran after Ron and left the other two to their bemused thoughts.

"Would you like to try Ronald's culinary treats as well, Dragon, or shall we make our selves scarce?" Jake bowed in a courtly if mocking way to acknowledge Artemis's dry wit.

"I, good sir, would prefer to avail myself to what I have heard as described supplement of the gods. Care to join me, or shall you spend your evening with your own company?" Jake winked at Artemis as he walked on down the hall to the kitchen.

Artemis smirked so slightly as to be non-existent. "I may do so."

Thirty minutes later, food still left on the table but bellies too full to take in more, Ron surveyed his latest conquest. Jake lay on the floor, unable to move along with Wade. Artemis was sitting primly in his seat, but he barely moved except to wipe his mouth and settle himself deeper in the chair. "So . . . was it good?"

Jake groaned before rolling to his side. "If I eat like that everyday, it'll be a miracle if I can crawl, much less get off the ground. Oh, foul master, let me be!" he joked.

Wade snickered from his place on the floor and folded his hands behind his head. "I told you guys, no matter how hungry you're not, you'll eat his food 'til you drop. And I've . . . dropped."

Artemis looked at Ron in an appraising manner. "If you ever wish to be a chef, I'll employ you. Immediately."

Ron gave a smug laugh before leaving the others to their own devices as he traveled back to his room. He really wanted to check on the thing from earlier. He had a strange feeling about it and he really felt the need to make sure something weird wasn't happening. Well, weirder than his normal life anyway.

"That thing is alive," said a voice in his ear as he stared at the once metallic blob. It had turned a delicate peachy-cream color, almost like skin. Ron jumped out of his skin and stumbled only to kiss the carpet. He turned at saw a tiny woman floating around in a fancy gown that swirled around her legs as she hovered.

"You know, with that dress on, you really do look like what people expect fairies to look like," he blurted before slapping a hand to his mouth. The female being snorted, her hair in dark exotic curls that bounced around her shoulders. Her eyes were large and exotic, a dark color he couldn't quite pin down. Her skin was hard to figure out with all the glitter that she was showered in.

"It's kind of sweet that you think so. When I get back to headquarters tomorrow, a lot of those idiots that doused me in glitter-glow are going to get theirs," she grinned evilly and Ron laughed.

"If you can, I might want to see what happens to those poor schmucks." He grinned before growing sober. "So, what is this? What's going on with it? It starting to look like a—a fetus or something I saw in Biology."

"That's because it is, now. We're going to have to transplant it before it dies or we're all in trouble if it is what I think it is. We'll need a second DNA to make sure that this little guy won't be an identical replica of whomever DNA it has consumed. That is something that even we Fairy can't explain away."

Ron tapped his chin as a idea jumped him. "I'll be right back, Miss Holly." He smirked evilly, eyes jumping with mischievous joy. Holly stifled a laugh and sat on the unmade bed, picking at the surprisingly clean sheets.

The blond made his way back to the kitchen, digging in his pocket for a mini test tube and equally mini scalpels. "Wade, finger!" Wade blinked at his friend sleepily, not quite understanding but do as he was "ordered" by Ron. He gave a small yelp when the scalpel bit into the tip of his index finger.

"Hey! That hurt, ya know," he pouted lazily, sucking on his wounded finger.

Jake laughed from his position curled on the floor. Ron stuck his tongue out. "You too, Jake. Hand up." Jake made an "Awwww" sound that was muffled by his arm. He did raise it obediently, finger out and didn't even make a sound of protest when the second scalpel sliced his finger. Ron then looked at Artemis. "If you don't mind, dude, I'd like some from you too. You don't have to, though."

Artemis looked on with wary eyes. "You, Jake, a being of magic, and you, Wade, a paranoid genius, just give away blood, one of the most powerful aspects of a human or magical being—any being, for that matter—give it up without even asking what he needs it for."

The other boys shrugged. "We trust him," Wade said happily, rubbing his bulging belly languidly. "He's has never, in the last twelve years since I've known him, done anything to make me suspect anything might be evil or even just wrong. He's more trustworthy than even the most loyal retainer because he'll never lie to you." Wade thought about that for a moment. "Well, unless you're Kimberly Possible, but that little brat needs her ass kicked more often than most."

Ron's jaw dropped at that, his eyes bugging out. "Dude, that's harsh."

Wade shrugged. "But true. She's a spoiled brat that gets her way no matter what it is."

Ron just rubbed his head. Artemis looked on with a new understanding, his face blank. "Well, if that is all, then by all means, have a drop of my blood." Artemis took out his own blade and cut his thumb, letting a drop bead to the surface. Ron stepped forward to catch it on the unmarred side of the lip to the tube.

Ron smiled like a loon. "Thanks, Artemis."

He wondered off, a grin in place as he returned to his room. Wade let his brow rise when he noticed that but he didn't say anything. Ron knew what he was doing.

Holly looked up as Ron entered, her gaze wavering from the file of art on the computer screen. Ron waved merrily until he noticed what she was going through. "Hey, hey, now! Out of that file, lady," he scowled at her without any heat. "That's a little personal, ya know."

Holly moved back and let him close the file with a little flare. "So, mud boy, you got the blood I need?" Ron nodded at her, his hand holding out the blood. She raised a brow. "That was quick. I figured I'd hear screaming and cursing of your name. How did you do it?"

"I just asked."

The fairy woman snorted. "Damn, why can't I just do that?" Ron laughed and watched as the blood was poured onto the fleshy blob and absorbed. "Now, to find a host mother."

Ron took a breath and sighed. "I might convince my aunt to carry it. She's always wanted a baby of her own." He smiled at the thought that Aunt Mel would finally get her baby. Someone that she could love and devote all her time and comfort to. She would be ecstatic. He felt a warm grin cover his face. "She's extremely healthy, so the baby will be too. Hell, she'll jump on this like white on rice."

The sudden silence filled with "Why, Ron, you COOKED!" had everyone jumping. It seemed as if Aunt Mel had finally gotten home. Holly became nothing more than a shimmering spot in the air as Ron went to meet his aunt with a hug. "Hey, Mel. I've got good news, bad news, and some really weird but really good news. Let's start with the first one."

Aunt Mel sighed dramatically. "Oh, Ronald, what has become of ye, my wee bairn? Hast mine nephew lost thyne sanity? Oh, what'ver shallst I do?" She grabbed the tall blond boy in a head lock and drug him into the kitchen. "But that doesn't matter. Feed me, Ron. Feed me, feed me, feed me!"

Ron laughed and pulled out, picking the smaller woman up and twirling her around. "I swear, you're so tiny it's a wonder you don't blow over in a stiff wind. It is unbelievable how much food she can put away." He set his blond aunt down and introduced her to his other friends. "Aunt, this is Wade, of course. And that young man at the table is Artemis Fowl. His bodyguard is the guy hanging around outside and keeping a watch on the apartment. The shimmering mist is a friend, but she'll only show if she wants to."

Mel squealed with a fan-girlish shriek and waved enthusiastically. "Hi, all!" She then turned to the stove and heaped food onto a plate, ignoring the looks from all around. Ron laughed and made her a glass of mint tea with honey, setting it at the clean place setting. The amount of food that she was able to consume was bewildering, Wade and Artemis looking at Ron as he loaded the plate up a third time.

"Ron, is your aunt hollow, or is this normal?" Jake and Ron shared a look.

"Normal," they chorused. "I mean, come on, she's about a hundred and twenty pounds and stands five feet, three or four inches tall. Her metabolism is so high, eating this much is good for her," Ron explained even as his aunt scowled at him.

"Excuse me young man, but what about my privacy?"

Ron flushed slightly under the Glare of Major Pain About to Happen © but held her gaze. "Well, this is the 'really weird but good' news that I was kind of waiting to tell you. Aunt Mel . . . how would you like to be a mother?" The dead silence was like an echo as the short blond woman stared in open-mouthed wonder at her nephew.

"A baby . . . I get to have a baby?" she whispered in a terribly aching voice. Longing filled her eyes, her heart, her very words as she spoke. "I'm . . . I'm allowed to adopt?"

Ron smiled softly and hugged his dearest aunt to him. "Actually, we need you to carry a child to term . . . and you can keep the babe when he or she is born." Mel seemed glad Ron held her because her legs refused to cooperate just then. Tears welled over and then she was sobbing like a woman gone mad with grief, her face in momentary pain before her belief in Ron let her hope beyond all hope that this was able to be done.

"Ron, Ron, my Ron, you are my most favorite boy in the world!" she blubbered into his shoulder. "I-I get to have a child! A child! Thank you, God!" She laughed wetly, hiccuping all the while. "All you boys . . ."

She grabbed up Wade and Jake from the floor (though Ron would never figure out how she did it) and hugged them to her. She grabbed Artemis, kissing his forehead and squeezing him in a hug before twirling away and laughing in joy.

Jake groaned as he moved to a chair and beckoned Ron over while Mel danced around the kitchen. "So, how is she going to be carrying a child when I haven't even asked around yet?"

Ron gave a cat-ate-the-canary grin. "Remember that blob? Well, it's alive and needs a host mother. Aunt Mel just happens to be perfect for this, since whatever is it, it's super magical now." Jake blinked slowly since he couldn't think of one thing to say.

"Seriously?" Ron nodded and leaned back.

"Holly," he said softly to the air, "can we do it now?" The fairy whispered in his ear and he nodded quickly. "Yeah, she'll be able to. I'll just get her to her room and keep the rest of these weirdos out of there."

"Hey," Jake pretended outrage, but stood and swept Artemis and Wade to the hall. "Come on, guys, Aunt Mel needs a moment."

Ron plucked his aunt from the floor and carried her bridal style to her room, sitting her softly on her mattress. "Now, Aunt Mel, we need to be clear on some things. Here's how it is . . ."


	8. The Most Desperate Gamble

':.`*`.:'

Once Jake and the others were in the hall, a tall man stepped from the shadows with a grim visage pulling at his mouth. The pale skin was tempered by a once there tan line from sunglasses on his face. He might have looked somewhat funny, but Jake doubted anyone would laugh though. Six feet plus in height gives an advantage.

Artemis pulled away from the other two and joined the tall man who Jake knew to be Butler, the young Lord Fowl's bodyguard. Wade gave a small wave to the tall man and stretched out as he moved around. Suddenly Wade cursed and looked at Jake. "I forgot the toy the Twins were working on. I'll be back in about twenty minutes, give or take. Make sure Ron knows I didn't just up and leave."

Jake nodded and watched as the black boy ran to the elevators and made his way outside. He shook his head at Wade's sudden departure and sighed. Taking up guard outside the door to deter any comers or goers, he played over a few ideas. Enticing ideas that made his heart race and his Dragon roar. That is until the magic saturating the air made it suddenly hard to breathe. He looked at the door and pushed down the urge to knock the flimsy barrier down and find out what the hell was going on. Hell, it was so strong even Artemis and Butler felt the backlash that flowed like a river throughout the hall.

An elderly woman opposite Mel's rooms opened her door and peeked out, her beautiful Asian face lined and kind. Her brow was quirked as she surveyed the young men and bodyguard in the hall before looking past them to the door. "Great magicks be at work this day, then? Ah, well. I must say, I didn't think I'd live to see the day." She smiled and in her Grandmother Voice asked the boys in.

Artemis was quite gallant in his acceptance, preferring to be inside a room to standing like a fool in the open public way. Jake smiled but declined, his eyes too worried and his back hunched up against the wall. Ming Ue, she had introduced herself just before inviting them in, nodded, her gaze piercing Jake where he stood and making him squirm.

"Just be careful, young dragon childe. Something shadowed walks this way with evil intentions. Fear the being and approach with caution."

Jake shivered as he now recalled those darkly uttered words almost an hour later before sighing in tired resignation. "Something else to battle then," he grouched to himself in near silent whispers. He pounded his head against the beige wall he sat against.

When Wade finally returned – apologetic for being so late and frustrated with some of the now ex-security – he asked in an amused voice why the American Dragon was letting a stationary wall beat him up. Jake growled. "Not funny, Wade. I'm just – I don't know what I am right now. I'm worried."

The door opening had him jumping to his feet, swinging around in just enough time to catch a staggering blond teen to his chest. "Ron? Ron! Damn it! Wade, call 911! He's barely breathing," the black and green haired boy said in a high tone. He carried the other boy to the gray and blue room, setting him on the bed. He took a deep breath and tried to remember what it was that he had learned in Phys-Ed about mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Pulling off the tight tee-shirt with dragon strength as he tore it away, he tried to hurry as Ron's lips started turning blue from lack of air. This—this was happening too quick! It took a long time to get that far! It was like he was dying in fast forward . . .

"Fuck!"

Making sure Ron was flat and that his throat was clear, Jake took a breath and gave it to Ron, pressing his lips to the still ones. His heart thudded in his chest in an unpleasant manner when Ron didn't respond positively. Taking another, he breathed for the blond again and pulled back to pump his chest over his breastbone. Compression . . . 1, 2, 3, 4 and breathe. Repeat.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him on his second round of compressions, something hard being pried into his interlocked hands. It brought blood as whatever the object was broke skin. "Stop, dragon childe. Your mate needs something else right now. His magicks are too low to sustain his life."

He turned slightly glazed eyes to the tiny Ming Ue, fear eating him up from the inside out even as he felt too numb all at once. Her wise eyes saw clearly and he stuttered out a breath. She brought his hands into her own and forced him to look at the thing she had given him. A claw. A claw of an ancient beast, a dragon ancient, back when human forms were myths to the giant reptilian creatures.

"Take this into your hand and press it into his. This will help hold the magic you will give him."

Jake did as told, curling his stiff fingers into an unresponsive hand that dwarfed his own. Long pale fingers flopped limply as he threaded his own through them and pressed the claw into the large palm. He turned his face to that of the deathly still boy, honey eyes hidden behind blue veined lids and long, feathery lashes of the palest gold. The woman moved away, her dark eyes glittering with inner fire.

"You must exchange breaths with him, childe. Kiss your mate and will your magicks into his body with every breath of your body. Do not force it, but guide it."

Jake felt his body shaking in soul breaking fear, stunned disbelief that he was going to do this, and a grim determination to not fail his Ron. His Ron, no one else's. That hadn't meant much until this very moment where he could loose the beautiful boy forever. He'd rather die that watch the sun fade from blond locks, the honeyed earth being replaced by dull glass, fair skin gone gray with death. He brought his hand up and rubbed his thumb along the cheek and across smooth, cold lips.

With a deep breath, he leaned forward and kissed the blue lips, pushing air into the unresponsive mouth as he pulled something from inside him. He couldn't see it, eyes closed and mind blank with his overwhelming emotions, but he glowed a deep warm red and orange and green that wound its way around the still blond. The kiss became more when suddenly Ron was gasping in Jake's breath and tasting the raw magic, feeling the warmth of lips upon his own. He opened his mouth wider, his mind confused but rejoicing in the feel and taste when he probed his tongue into the other mouth. The warm cavern was sweet like peppermints and hotter than the fires on the sun to him as his body finally started to kick in.

An arm wrapped around a trembling body and his tongue dueled with the other as he held the other to him tightly. The magic flared brighter and brighter, lighting up the room, the hall, projecting into the slowly darkening sky like a beacon. Sweet honey eyes opened as he pulled away to see deep, swallowing black. With a grin on his face, he passed out with Jake pulled fully on top of him and held in a possessive embrace.

':.`*`.:'

Wade blinked the light from his eyes, cell phone hanging limply and shut in his hand, the number not even dialed since Ming Ue had closed the flip-phone. He stood awkwardly in the doorway to Ron's room trying to blink away the sight before him. Ron was laying flat with Jake draped like a blanket over him. Both were glowing and unconscious, but at least they were breathing right and calmly like one would in regular sleep.

What had his mind baffled was the possessive grip Ron had on the American Dragon, the tall and thin blond holding onto the ebony haired Asian boy with a fierceness Wade usually associated with people like his parents or even Ron's own father towards his wife. The genius boy let out a breath in a sigh as he tried to think, for once his mind going blank. Ming Ue was smiling, her face serene. She . . . knew. She knew. About this, about the magic, and most importantly, she knew more than he or Artemis in this situation which meant she either was a witch or a creature.

"Such deep thoughts, young man. Let them be, young mage, for your answers lie not within your own mind. Come," she gestured him out and back to her room, "let us converse like the civilized beings we are."

Not knowing what else he could do, he followed the woman. He had noticed she was short before, but he hadn't figured on the Asian woman being so tiny. He stood almost a head taller than her, his broad shoulders pulling against the fabric of his shirt he was sure was looser than this not even an hour beforehand. He reached up to rub a long fingered hand through his hair and stopped the movement. His hair was . . . was it longer?

Artemis was meditating while Butler stood at attention. Wade lifted a hand in greeting halfheartedly before spying a mirror hanging in a gold frame against the red backdrop of the walls. He blinked in disbelief. Poking himself and even pinching his arm didn't wake him so this must be real. A surreal kind of real in that 'It can't be happening' kind of way.

Longer hair bounced in rebellious curls on his head and he was actually taller than he remembered. He looked at his shorts and for sure they were above his knees. His too-big-but-comfy sandals fit a little tightly too, not to mention his baby fat was all but gone and that his shirt was a second skin. He felt suddenly light headed, his mind going off at the speed of light to try and calculate what the hell was going on, before he ended up fainting where he stood.

':.`*`.:'

Ron was awakened by the soft sound of rain on the window pane, the sky a bleary kind of blue-gray with darker gray outlining the clouds and buildings. His room was barely light enough to not be a solid darkness as the dark blue curtain hung lazily against the dowel rod that held it up. The shimmery form of Holly coming out of cloaking made his mind wake up a little better as the small LEP re-con officer surveyed his room as if looking for something.

"Holy mudball, mud boy. You did one hell of a number on this place. I've never seen protection wards so damned thick before," the little fairy just glanced around seeing what he couldn't with her magic enhanced eyes. "Remind me never to cross you, mud boy."

Ron lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in order to get his thoughts going. "That last I remember is helping supply power to Aunt Mel. From there on, nothing. Not one dang thang."

Holly set down and shut off her Dragonflys so she could pace. "Not surprising. I was almost awed when you went walking from the room and not struggling to crawl onto the bed. I've never seen so much power in one individual before now. Whoever supplied you with so much energy should be castrated for leaving you alone to deal with the backwash. I would think a mud boy like you would usually be crispy at this point. Apparently, you're not otherwise I'd picking over your charred remains." Ron quietly thought that he was glad too before stretching out like a cat, shifting slowly so that Jake could continue sleeping. That was when he noticed something was in his hand.

Taking a second to bring his eyes on line long enough to try and recognize what it was he was holding, his breath caught at the amount of swiftly leaping, twisting, dancing whips of power and energy. It wasn't until he smoothed his thumb over the blackness that he realized what it could be. A claw, one that looked remarkably like Jake's when the Asian teen used them once to pry open a jar. Even though it could have belonged to any of the ten percent of magical creatures and a good five percent of non, he felt—dancing flames that charred the entire land to dust, eyes like giant copper orbs gazing with death as gold scales echoed the light of the sun—the utter draconian wispy-yet-fierce vibe that coated the blackened claw.

"Huh?" he said in a hushed voice. He slipped up from under the slumbering body a bit and sat against the pillow at his back propped along the bed's headboard. Jake didn't even stir and Ron felt a bit of worry curl in his stomach. "Hey, Jake," he shook a shoulder with his free hand, "what's wrong? Buddy?"

Holly sat on the edge of the bed and wrinkled her nose. "Whew, mud boy, does all of your stuff smell this weird?" She plucked at the covers and then dismissed them. "Whatever, that's not important. I will say not to be too upset if the dragon sleeps the next few days away. He gave a lot of life energy – powerful stuff, that – and now he's having to regenerate what he lost." The faye being held her chin with her thumb and index finger, the glitter and dress gone, the hair pulled back, the body suit she was wearing was formless yet like a second skin. Her helmet was perched on her head, the visor up letting her dark eyes gleam like hidden gems. "Actually, being in contact with you seems to have sped up the transition. That's something I haven't seen before in all my centuries. And, hey, tell Fowl that I'll be Underground for the foreseeable future. Something is going on and LEP re-con is being pulled in full force. I'll be surprised if I see daylight in the next year."

With that the elvish woman snapped her visor down and flipped the switch on her Dragonflys. Giving a smile and quasi salute, Holly was shimmering into nothingness. Ron felt something sliding over him leaving him shivering at the slick feeling-that-wasn't. Trying to shake off the disgusting touch, Ron's hand brushed his lips—heat, warmth that made his entire body tingle, his mouth open and taking another in a searing kiss—as he stretched up.

This startled Ron so bad he nearly fell off the bed. The first time had been a fluke. This time, this one was so much more personal. But . . . was he imagining it? He didn't think so, but come on! Things like this didn't—okay, so, yeah, they had been happening a lot in the past few months. But this? This?

Trying to figure out how he did it, much less than the fact that he wanted to see what he could do, was going to be kind of hard. Maybe. He sighed as he reached out and brushed the hair away from Jake's face—warm panting as he blinked away the sweat in his eyes, claws curling in defensive hooks as his entire left side throbbed and his right leg dragged the ground—and then stilled, letting the full memory register. But that first initial blast of information was all that he seemed able to reach.

"Ooo-'kay. That was unexpected. Next time, don't worry about the weird powers. They always seem to work out." He flexed his fingers and felt a shock. "Ow!" He sucked his thumb and forefinger into his mouth, trying to figure out just what that had been.

Raising the abused hand to his face, he groaned softly when he noticed that tiny little tattoo-like shapes wrapped around his finger tips in a light blue-gold that made them almost invisible unless one was looking for it. Trying to figure out what they actually were and not just the color, though that had been a relief, he brushed his other hand against them. He blinked – holding on so tight, skin touching, warmth and protection from nightmares – and then sighed. Well . . . he now knew what triggered the visions. That was good. But it was bad. Ron sighed. 'Why can't I have the good without the bad?' he groused to himself.

Easiest thing he could think of would be to buy gloves. Keep his hands covered. But . . . he was very tactile. He enjoyed the sensation of touch – like one would a fine wine, he supposed – and to take away that would leave him unbearably muddled and without direction. It seemed kind of funny since he wore gloves on missions and while doing things like cleaning or cutting food, but to block out all stimuli except for a course wool or stiff and unyielding leather, was something that made him cringe. How ironic. A stimuli driven fool having to avoid the very thing he craved unless he wanted to be incomparably foolish and force his mind into insanity from vision overload. He sighed, thumping his head back hard as he let his train of thought explode into a mountain side.

"Please stop doing that," slurred a tired voice. "I'm tryin' ta shleeeeep . . ." The dark haired boy rolled over and snuggled tighter under Ron's arms as he drifted back off. Ron blinked bemusedly at the ebony-haired prat he was sharing his bed with. Even trolls and blood sucking leech monsters wouldn't chance waking a sleeping dragon . . .

':.`*`.:'

Wade was truly and completely . . . blank. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. ZERO.

How in the hell did this happen? Was it because of Ron? Jake? Hell, Ming Ue? He poked at his arms in disbelief as it stayed hard as a rock. He had muscle mass, lots of it, and everywhere. Unfortunately, it seemed his brain had taken a vacation. It just didn't seem possible. His dad was so going to, as other teenagers would say, "shit bricks" when he saw what had become of his once puny and flabby son.

Probably try and put him on the football team . . .

Wade suppressed a shudder at such a thing. Well, at least his mom wouldn't worry about him staying inside all the time. He looked like he just spent the last five years at a military training camp, sans ugly hair cut.

Artemis was staring at him like he'd grown a second head, again—so was Butler but he was being discrete about it—and over analyzing every aspect of the process he had seen. Apparently, while he'd been out, Wade had grown another three or four inches and had – the only word he could think to describe it – "thickened" until even Butler would be hard pressed to be broader or more muscled than he. It was very Sci-Fi. And Wade's clothes were now too small. Way too small. As in "pants that castrate" too small. His shirt was just stretched out quite a bit but, thankfully, he could wear the cotton tee still.

The black boy pulled on the black slacks that hugged his legs tightly. He had thunder thighs, too, now that he noticed it. He tugged on the tight t-shirt – it was like a second skin – and sighed again.

"Damn it," he groaned.

" 'Damn' what, Wade?" said another familiar, tired voice somewhat cheerfully. Wade spun to see Ron standing there in the door propping himself up against the wall. Ron smiled weakly as waved a hand at Wade ignoring Artemis's hard gaze-that-was-a-glare. "Sorry about the whole makeover, buddy. Was completely unintentional, I assure you."

Wade snorted. "You can't seem to help yourself when things like magic is involved, can you?" He grinned. "Anyway, the Twins sent you a gift. It's sitting outside on the curb."

Ron nodded. "Thanks, but I think I'll wait until I can stand upright on my own before trying any stairs." Ron grinned as Wade chuckled lightly. Artemis just watched silently, his eyes blinking owlishly. Ron blinked back at him before shrugging and settling against the door to make himself more comfortable. If he sat down, he might not make it back upright.

"Hey," Wade said slowly, "where's Jake? Wasn't he with you?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "He's sleeping so hard an explosion might wake him up if it was right under him. Seriously, though, he's just recharging after giving me some of his life magic. Holly was completely odd about it, too. Couldn't figure out what she was going on about." He frowned in thought before the proverbial light bulb blinked into existence over his head. "Oh, yeah!" he snapped his fingers. "Artemis, Holly said she was gonna be Underground for a while. Might be a year or so before she can Surface again."

The vampyric-looking boy looked at Ron steadily, his voice flat. "Did she say why?"

"Uh-urh," the blond grunted as he held out his hands in he "hell-if-I-know" gesture he seemed to be over using lately. Artemis sighed and nodded to himself before closing his eyes and leaning back against the soft red chaise in thought.

Ignoring the enigma called Artemis Fowl, Ron stared back at Wade. His perusal was disbelieving and left him gaping like a goldfish. He had just seen him, yeah, but his time he was actually looking and . . . wow! "Since when are you so damn tall? And broad! You resemble a minotaur minus the bull parts! You're so damn big!" Wade stared at his long time friend with an blank, dead-panned stare as he continued. "And . . . and I couldn't have done that! My magic is fixing things, not . . ." Ron waved his hand in a dismissive manner at the black boy. Wade's brow went up and he pursed his lips.

"Ronald, you are either blind, bleached, or completely unaware. I know for a fact that you're quite observant even if it takes you a second, and you have naturally blond hair. So that leaves 'completely unaware', which I find hard to except." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "And, I look completely normal for my age now. Heck, now I'm almost as big as my dad was at my age."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Whatever on the power of observation, dude. I just want to know: what're you taking and how can I get some? I'm like a bean pole that can walk! So totally unfair." Ron pouted, his arms crossed as he gave a big boo-boo lip. "You're younger than me, too, and now you're a power-ized mutant giant!"

Wade felt his eye brow go up. "Personally, I would prefer your body style." He picked at his tight clothes. "I, myself, have been having problems with this one. The first and foremost is clothing followed by women groping me in public inareas where they should not be groping. Not to mention that I have to eat three times my usual share of foods and drink near a gallon more of water. So, no, Ron, you don't have it that bad." The words coming from his mouth were so dry a desert would be envious.

Ron couldn't help it, he really couldn't, and he started to laugh. He held his sides, tears running from his eyes as he tried to control the slightly hysterical sounds coming from his mouth, but it seemed in vain. Wade's worried glance helped him slow up, but he still ended up in the floor giggling helplessly until he almost couldn't gasp in enough of a breath to keep from choking. He lay twitching a few minutes later, his weak jelly-like arms letting him collapse face down, head turned to the side as he drug in large gulps of air. It was a few minutes later before he could flip over and he looked up – and up, and up – to meet Wade's dark chocolate eyes. "I needed that. Won't be able to move or anything now, but I feel a whole lot better." Ron's brow drew down into a frown. "What I'm gonna try and figure out now is what the fudge is going on. I can fix things, mechanical things, un-living things, but to make you grow near two feet taller and stimulate your muscular structure to the point that a blinking body builder would be envious, eh, no. And, not only that, but every time I touch something and I'm thinking of someone, I see them doing whatever it was they had been doing there last. Or farther into the past. It's so weird . . ."

Not even really thinking about it, Wade picked Ron up and carried him back to the bedroom. "Yeah, well, we're not doing tests right now. You're lucky to be alive, Jake's lucky to still be able to breath with the amount of life-force he gave you, and I'm lucky to bunk with someone who wears clothing of a similar size. I say our luck is all used up. So no pushing it. We, Spud and Jake and you and I, are all sick with the flu and therefore out of school for two weeks."

"Spud? Why Spud?" Ron asked. He curled up a little and let himself be carried without protest. Actually, he may even come to like being cared for like this. It felt . . . nice.

"Damn! You don't know. Okay," Wade set him down and watched as Jake curled up around the blond as soon as he was close enough to grab. It weren't for the fact that his eyes were closed, he could have sworn he was awake. "First, You two did a wammy on everything in the entire apartment complex. People aren't complaining about pain or electrical problems, moms are more energetic, their kids a lot healthier. Spud . . . he was caught while coming up the elevator to see Jake. Trixie was with him, but she's not really showing any differences so we sent her home. Spud, on the other hand, has pulled a trick like mine almost. He hasn't woke up yet, but he's physically fine if a bit taller and thicker. We're not really sure what the surge has done, but when he wakes up, we'll let you know."

The tall black boy rubbed his face. "And Ron, to let you know, it seems as if everyone here is getting a lot smarter. Butler damn near gave Artemis and I both a heart attack when he spouted off the answer to one of those only-genii-teenagers-know-the-answer kind of question. It's super-charged his mind, dude, to the point that he's a low level genius in certain fields."

Wade left then, his retreating back blocking all light from the door for the few moments it took to leave and leaving Ron with a million questions and few answers.

"Well . . . hell."


	9. Last Minute Road Trip

':.`*`.:'

It was someone poking him in the face that brought Jake to awareness, if only just, his eyes feeling caked and gross. He looked up – and up, and up – to see one of his best friends standing over him, the usually confused face of Spud endearingly thoughtful and bright.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Jake rasped. He grimaced and then gave a thankful smile when water was presented. It was as he was reaching for the glass that he realized what – more specifically who he was lying on like a giant mattress. His face got a little warmer, but he declined to make anything more of it. That would only show shame and to be honest, he wasn't. Yeah, he liked girls, but like Trixie had said, he was at the very least bisexual and there was nothing wrong with that. "And what time is it?"

Spud scrubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed. "I do believe that something is weird with me now. If you haven't noticed due to the haze of sleep you're battling to think through, my speech patterns and analytical reasoning has had an upgrade. It's freaking me out, man. It really is."

Jake woke up a lot more with those words from Spud. Spud the Dud many would have picked on was now talking closer to a college level student than a bum surfer. That was not right. "What in the hell happened?"

Another shadow, this one just a touch larger than Spud – who Jake finally noticed was at the very least a foot and a half taller than he remembered – joined them, the voice identifying the teen boy as Wade. "Well . . . when Ron temporarily stopped breathing, you, Jake, went a little nuts with the magic. Ron's powers seem to keep changing while sticking to a certain criteria, so instead of a backlash of epic proportions and maybe a city block gone, the powers of Ron here used up your extra power to, eh, fix people. At least, that's what Artemis and I have theorized after a long debate."

Jake felt his jaw hanging. "Human English please. Geek makes my head hurt right now."

Spud smacked his forehead. "What he's saying is that instead of 'boom' we have a mass healing and/or upgrading of the mental, physical, or emotional aspects of everyone that is in the building, but more specifically the ones you and Ron know. It seems to also bring out the best genetic coding." He scratched his chin. "Me, I've grown and gotten smarter in less that forty-eight hours."

Which brought Jake back to one of his original questions. "Okay . . . yeah. So what time is it?"

Wade offered his watch. "About seven pm Monday. Don't worry, school is taken care of, Grandpa Long took care of that yesterday when Spud and Trixie had been hit with the backlash. Aunt Mel is okay, too, just to let you know." The black boy hadn't been talking to Jake, but to the blond that was awake beneath the Asian boy. Jake smiled softly at the brown eyed boy even as he snuggled closer to the tightening embrace. Spud looked vaguely confused though.

"Okay, I know my powers of – well, anything before today were nonexistent, but weren't you dating Rose?"

Jake shrugged at the brown haired boy with a sheepish look. "Well, like Hailey said: 'How many boys have girlfriends out to kill them?' I'm tired of fighting her, loving her, then not being enough to keep her. So, yeah I moved on." He tugged on his own green-tipped black hair. "That and I found someone a lot better to . . ." he paused and then shut his mouth with a snap. No way was he going to say that yet.

Ignoring that Jake had cut himself off, Spud nodded sagely. "Yeah, you're right. I just had to ask." Then his eyes narrowed. "So, how long have you two been dating?"

Jake spluttered incoherently even as he was going to say "we aren't yet" Ron beat him to it. "Does it matter? No one outside close friends and even fewer family members know we like boys too, so we kept the rest of our lives quiet. No need to piss in someone's cheerios before we have to." Jake gave a grateful smile to Ron and rolled off the blond a little so it would be easier to talk to the two human monoliths they called friends. Wade laughed at the young man beside him, the brunet punctuating his disjointed words and babble with growls of aggravation before he finally got out,

"Damn it, that is not an answer! That's avoiding the question!"

Ron gave a small shake of his head in sad wonderment. "That usually means to butt out, Spud-densky, not dig in further."

Spud blushed just the tiniest bit. "Sorry. Still no tact filter, just thinking a lot faster. Kinda still getting used to that."

Ron grinned and Jake out right laughed. Wade put his large hand on Spud's shoulder. "Come on, genius boy, let's leave the love birds to their nest."

Ron waited until he was sure that they were out of ear shot before asking, "So, where should our first date be?"

':.`*`.:'

Ron sighed as he stewed in the bathtub with bubbles tickling his chin, his muscles lax. Jake was in with him sitting on the other side, the blush on his face bright.

"Why are we in the tub together again?" the dragon child asked with a whine. Ron opened one eye and looked at the other teen.

"Did you forget what happened the last time we stopped touching?" the question was serious but quiet. Ron shifted and stifled the moan that threatened to escape when Jake's foot rubbed against his flaccid member. Too tired to do anything physical or not, his skin was still sensitive. "I thought that the pain from the convulsions was enough of a reminder."

Jake pouted, his lip hanging out. "I know . . . this is just, uh, embarrassing." He scratched his neck in agitation while shifting around to try and get comfortable again, glaring at Ron for moving in the first place.

Ron gritted his teeth and breathed through his nose in an attempt to stop his body from reacting. I'm too tired for this. I'm too tired for this. I'm too tired for this, ran through his mind like a mantra . . . not that it worked or anything. "Yeeeeah, well, you'll live," though I might not. He shivered when Jake finally got fed up with sitting on Ron's feet and stood up.

"A'ight, enough is enough. Scoot forward, I'll sit behind ya," he declared. Ron didn't complain, just moved forward, pushing the bubbles with him. Jake slid in behind and Ron moaned softly at the feel of the soft skin against his own.

Ron sucked in a breath, his cock jumping up and to attention like a pogo champion. He's trying to kill me, I know it! he thought desperately as he forced himself to stay facing forward. Don't die yet, don't you dare die yet, Stoppable. Just because every time you touch him since last night you get ready to shoot off . . . Ye gods, I'm gonna die!

Jake had noticed the oddness of Ron's behavior before now, but the fact that he was near hyperventilating was harder to ignore. "Ron? You okay, buddy?"

Ron shook his head in the negative, his limbs trembling and his breath panting. He gripped Jake's thighs in an effort to keep himself grounded—fingers stroking thighs as he attempted to reach his peak—and he felt his eyes roll in the back of his head as he felt the ghost sensations from the vision. Jake felt eat up with worry and wrapped his hands around Ron . . . to encounter his problem. Ron near jumped out of his skin as he held onto his iron will by his metaphorical finger tips and didn't let go.

"Ron," Jake said softly against his ear causing Ron to shudder violently. "I – ah, I'll help with that. If you want." He was shocked at himself for even saying it but he wasn't going to take it back. Jake was actually looking forward to his first encounter with another man . . . well, Ron. Had been since that shower scene he had walked in on almost over two months ago. He wasn't going to be suddenly lusting after other men. He hoped. Ron would be fair enough of a handful.

Ron was almost as shocked as Jake but he was too desperate to really rationalize what was going on around him. His body felt too tight, on fire, like he was stretched out too thin and filled with volcanically heated air and gasping in nothing but poison that burned his lungs. "Jake . . . please," he cried softly, tears falling down his face in frustration. "It hurts so much."

Jake felt the grip on his thighs tighten to a bruise inducing grip and winced but didn't say anything. Taking a deep breath for courage, he wrapped his hand around the stiff flesh, hearing Ron gasp as he bowed back, his bum pushing into Jake's lap and his head coming back to rest on the shorter teen's shoulder. Ron panted into Jake's ear, his body tense and screaming at him. "Jake," he husked out, his hips pumping into the fist that held his body suspended on the brink of fulfillment. With sudden clarity, he saw and then . . . the world exploded in curls of fire and blinding white foam as his being disintegrated and rebuilt itself.

Jake had seen the ecstasy, the mind-blowing wonder that had filled Ron's face before he had shut down, his body slumping and slipping into a sleep that was too exhausted to wake from. Jake was tired, too, but he forced his body up and out of the water, draining the tub as he picked up Ron to cradle him tightly. Checking the hall, he crept to Ron's room with both still dripping but he was uncaring since he was too tired to give a good damn.

Jake curled up with his friend . . . no, boyfriend now. The bedspread got soaked, as did the pillows when he laid down wrapped around Ron. He was so tired but unable to sleep, his energy high enough to keep him on that brink of wakefulness. Well, that and something else a bit more personal. It went down eventually when he thought of Spud and Trixie kissing. They might be his best friends, but no way was that cool. Not even kosher, really. It was like watching your siblings make out. Just, just eeeewwww!

The sun came up, and he still couldn't sleep. Something was bothering him about today. Something that made his gut clench and his sides hurt. Aunt Mel knocked and Jake pulled the covers up before calling her in. She peeked around the door and sighed. "Still sleeping?" He nodded and she shook her head. "I know they said teenagers slept a lot but this is ridiculous. I'm heading out for some munchies and ice cream sounds pretty good. Want any?"

Jake blinked. "Ah, no. Not now. Maybe later?"

She smiled. "Okay! See you two soon. Toodles!" Aunt Mel was out the door and gone before his mouth was even closed. Ever since she "became" pregnant, she had more energy—almost impossible to imagine, but there you have it—smiled more brightly, laughed more sweetly. She was transforming before his very eyes into the Perfect Mom. It was the most extraordinary and unusual transformation he had ever seen in his young life, but it was also uniquely the most wondrously beautiful one.

Checking on Ron again—and after several tests to see in he could leave without ending up catatonic with pain—he shuffled off to the kitchen for leftovers, his shorts low on his hips and threatening to fall off as he scratched under the over-large shirt with a yawn. "Leftovers, leftovers, oh, where are the leftovers?" he sang softly to himself with a grin at his own foolishness. Opening the fridge, he dug through all the covered plates and sealed food receptacles until he found the onigiri, some chocolate cake, and boiled potatoes. Not the most pleasing things to most other palates, but he liked to mix his food up. Have something different while being separate. Trixie said he ate like a pregnant woman.

The door buzzer rang as he was warming up his potatoes. Curious, he went to see who it was. "Hello?" he said into the intercom.

"Let me up, Jake. It's Trixie. And I have something you need to see." He admitted her, his gut clenching suddenly, his appetite gone. He saw her first as he opened the door to see her coming up the stairs—since, once again, the elevator was not working—and his breath caught. Trixie was Trixie . . . but not.

"Trixie?" When the woman nodded, he sat in the floor before he fell over the open balcony. "What?"

She was beautiful, her hair having grown so much that she had let it swing behind her like a dark curtain of wildly curling silk to her waist. Her eyes were a richer, fuller earthy brown that drew you in and made you feel safe. Her figure was taller, full curves filling out the long wife beater shirt, her bra barely visible while being white-on-white. Her pants were traded for a pair of once too big shorts that almost lost the journey to her knees and were tight across her hips. Thong sandals that he knew for a fact belonged to her older male cousin graced her feet lovingly, making them appear perfect and dainty when they should seem otherwise.

"When I got home that night, I felt everything change. My Nana nearly had a heart attack, Jake, because I changed in front of her." She was pacing, kicking off the flip-flops. "I've been out of school for the last few days, Nana sending in for home schooling. I might get it since she laid it on pretty thick, but what am I supposed to do?" She hugged her middle. "I'm not me anymore, Jake."

Jake stood and went to hug his best friend. "Oh, Trixie. You're still you, longer hair and all. It doesn't matter what you look like. I see my best friend in you still, her eyes are looking at me, and her temper is still there. You're just more. You are complete now, no more wondering if you're not good enough or strong enough. Think about it, Trix."

She wrapped him in a tight hug, one that left him gasping even with his own dragon skeleton taking the brunt of the vise-like hold. She sniffled. "I guess I've been blowing this up, but I was so scared. I haven't seen Spud since then, either. What will he think?"

"I would be wondering if Jake was making moves on my girlfriend," said Spud from the stair landing, his face soft in warmth. "Hey, Trix. Long time no see."

Trixie whirled and stared, her eyes bugging as she took in Spud. Jake shut her jaw with his fingers. "You might catch flies," he joked. She glared at him but the sound of Spud coming over had her attention back on her boyfriend. Who was sexy. And wonderful. And sweet. And sexy. And Kind. And understanding. And just . . . did she mention sexy?

"Who's given him a makeover and can I kiss them?"

Jake snorted. "No kissy the boyfriend. You have your own."

It took a moment but Trixie looked at Jake with a raised brow. "Boyfriend? Did you finally get your act together or was it Ron that asked you?"

Jake cringed. "Ah, well . . ."

Trixie ruffled his hair. "I'll take that as a 'he asked me' answer and go maul—I mean, make-out with my boyfriend."

Jake sputtered out that she had just got there, was waved off by a currently lip-locked couple, and then assaulted by pain that coursed up his spine. Trixie and Spud weren't paying attention so he made it back inside the apartment before they could stop him, his teeth clenched hard. He'd been away from Ron too long, his body reacting harshly to the separation.

His knees gave way without warning and a terrified squeak pushed past his lips. Warm arms wrapped around him, the pain and fall stopping without preamble. Jake sighed and let himself be limp and hurt and tired. Being the Am-Drag was hard sometimes and just having someone help you rest was more than worth it. Soft fingers carding through his hair made him shiver as goosebumps crawled down his spine. Ron nuzzled his neck as the tall blond carted Jake to the kitchen table.

"I think we need to talk to someone," Ron muttered softly as he sat with Jake in his lap. The potatoes, onigiri, and chocolate cake were set out – enough for two – with one set of silverware. "I might know someone who can help us."

Jake nodded, then groaned when Ron started nibbling his neck causing delicious shivers to race over his body. He had never felt this desperate before, this compulsive need to either surrender completely or dominate absolutely. However, his stomach was growling its displeasure at being ignored. Ron laughed lightly before grabbing up the spoon to scoop out the cake, offering the first bite to the ebony-haired teen in his lap. Jake said nothing as he was fed, but who would say anything when someone kept kissing your neck and leaving little love bites causing delicious shivers and tingles to run amok within his body. A stronger man might, but Jake was being weak.

As their odd breakfast ended, Ron again picked up Jake to cart him through the house. Jake gave a token protest before he was similarly dismissed and then dressed like a doll. Ignoring the pleas, threats, and out right blackmail of his companion, the blond hoisted Jake up on his back and tromped down the stairs, bypassing a skeptical looking Wade. When Jake implored the tall black boy to save him, Wade laughed and ignored them as he handed keys to Ron. A distracted nod was all he received in acknowledgment.

Ron did have a moment when he looked at the . . . beast-turned-machinery on the curb. He knew it was the old scooter but, but – how did the twins pull this off? Long gone was the single seat and dainty wheels. Barely street legal, the tri-cycle was like a mutated breed between a dragon, a four-wheeler, and a rocket. If Batman was real, boy would he be envious!

The wheels and tires had to be at the very least as large as a motorcycle's and much wider, the seats actually designed to be separate but upon further inspection, could be joined to form a long double cushion. The two wheel wells on the back held compartments meant to hold things like clothes, tools, and other such needed implements needed on the long roads. From just inside the wells on the tail end of the tri-cycle were the thrusters that Ron remembered Jim and Tim hiding from Mr. Possible years ago. He connected the thrusters to a large silver-chrome button near the black starter button.

"Memo to us: don't touch the chrome button," he muttered as he deposited Jake on the seat before jumping on himself and inserting the key.

The two black helmets tied to the handles were put on and Ron started the bike up. They both shivered at the almost sexy sound of a well tuned engine purring deeply between their legs. Jake wrapped himself around Ron, snuggling his suddenly cold form into the intensely warm back of Ron. Ron started so slightly until he felt something within him settle down. This was right. This felt right.

He did nearly jump out of his skin when the tri-cycle decided to inform him of the weather report – calling for rain, by the way – and watched as draconic looking body parts extended over the mostly unprotected wheels and tires, a large encompassing "hood" creeping over the two to join the now extended side panels to create an interior where air controls rolled out of the middle of the handle bars. James Bond. Very James Bond. Just what movies/cartoons had the twins been watching?

Adjusting his feet in the stirrup like foot holds on the enclosed floor boards, Ron pulled out with a rev of the engine and unbeknownst to the two flames shot from the thrusters scaring the people watching. The ride was smooth, the two comfortably cuddling in the silence until Jake slipped into a quiet nap. Ron watched as a "Welcome to Pennsylvania" sign flashed by. Wherever he was going, he was definitely leaving the state now. Almost seven hours later, he pulled to the curb for a quick nap, Jake barely even moving throughout it all and didn't wake once. Ron's worry trebled in intensity. Less than two hours later and he was again driving, this time into the night. The sun was touching the horizon before Jake woke just long enough to inquire where they were. He yawned, munched on a protein bar, then curled back up. Ron checked his vitals and was relieved at the relatively normal state of a hibernating teen-dragon. Mid morning had them sliding over the Ohio state line.

Ron blinked as he stared tiredly at the small bar he and Jake had finally stopped at. He knew they were technically too young to be in such an establishment but they both had to use the restroom and get something besides the rationed protein bars to eat and refill their water bottles.

Ron helped Jake to a table just inside as he looked around, most of the occupants too deep in their own lives to notice the two teens. Checking for the bathroom, he supported Jake as they moved to the back all the while dodging around the drunken masses and half coherent lovers entangled in corners or booths. Once relieved and washed up, Ron sat Jake gingerly in one of the booths with a silent gesture to stay quiet. Strolling to the bar, he made sure to order something light for Jake and something a little more filling for himself. A bowl of homemade stew and a triple cheeseburger were directly delivered to them with a smile from a kindly older woman as she patted Ron on the cheek and ruffled a bleary-eyed Jake's tousled hair.

The bowl of stew was mostly gone before Jake pushed it away to lay his head on his arms. Ron sucked down his last fries and cola to hurry up. He really didn't want Jake to fall asleep in here. If he had to carry the smaller teen out, they might be followed by the older, meaner looking men that were eying them unpleasantly. It might give those guys . . . ideas.

"Up, buddy. We're almost there," he consoled softly to the tired teen. Jake helped Ron get him out to the bike before collapsing onto the seat. Ron budged him up to slip in front, glad for once for his thin build. Activating the hood and panels again, he pulled from the graveled drive. Not seconds later, several more bikes joined them, many belonging to the large, furious looking men from the bar. He sped up a little and took the next exit, wondering how far he'd have to go before they gave up. Luck of the black kind made itself known as a chain came out to rap harshly on the forward shielding plate. Jake grunted and tightened his arms letting Ron know that he was awake and somewhat aware.

"Voice commands, I know this has to have voice commands," Ron grunted as he looked over the few buttons left for him to try. The bike beeped with a static-laced voice acknowledging that it did answer to voiced problems. "Dangerous threat. What kind of scale does it have?"

"One-to-ten, one the lowest setting starting with hail to ten of imminent death or a serious wreck," the bike informed in the same monotone as before. Ron gave some thought to how bad this was when a bat came out to try and shatter the glass-like side panel window. It didn't even dent or crack, thank the Twins, but this seemed to infuriate the biker men.

"On the scale, this is a five. Options?"

"Offensive measures, defensive measures, evasion," the bike responded blankly.

Ron jumped when a crowbar slapped on the top of the hood. "Evasion! Get us out of here!" The bike seemed to make an affirmative beep just as the back lowered, the wheel wells pulling in closer to the seat and shifting further back. The nose of the dragon lengthened and levered over the front wheel keeping anything from penetrating it. The seats sloped back forcing Ron and Jake to lay low while the hood sunk to just inches above them and the panels pulling themselves tight. Their foot stirrups slanted even higher while the handle bars folded in and down to maximize in the now much smaller area.

Their speed was even greater, the two zipping along the on-ramp nearly four miles from where they had jumped from the highway. It didn't stop the bikers, one even yelling and cursing. Ron tried to hear the words, some sounding like 'queers' and 'fuckers pollutin' our bar' being repeated with great frequency. Just great. At least he now knew why the men were coming after them. Sighing, he looked at the console of the cycle. "Is there anyway to cloak us from police detectors?"

An affirmative beep later encouraged Ron to do something very stupid. He slid his thumb over the chrome button, closed his eyes in a short prayer, then . . . pushed. Everything became a blur, the tri-cycle alerting them to other vehicles so that a collision wouldn't happen with the high speeds they were achieving, Ron swerving left then right with an ease that astounded him. Sound ceased to exist outside of the screaming of the wind and their fast breaths induced from fear and adrenaline. Time seemed to slow down while fast forwarding. In a word, it was terrifying. In a another, it was beyond exhilarating.

Before long the cycle had slowed to more normal speeds of one-hundred, ninety, eighty-five, then eighty. Ron looked out the clear part of the side panel made to look like a window and sighed softly, glad that they were alive. Not long after, he took a turn-off into deep country side, trees towering over the road like a dense hall of foliage. The blond decided that Ohio was a beautiful place and they must come back soon, under less stressing circumstances anyway.

Not even a full hour later and the tri-cycle crunched gravel beneath its wide wheels up to a small farm house where a woman sat shelling beans on the well kept porch. As the hood and side panels retracted, the wheel wells pulling back into position along with the seats, and the handle bars erecting themselves to their former resting place, the woman smiled at them softly, waving a dirty hand in greeting.

"Why don' yeh two wee ones come on up 'ere?"

Ron nodded, cradling Jake to his chest with a strength that had the woman's brown brow raising in silent observation and curiosity. Never in all her born days had she seen such effortless brute strength in a human child.

"Madame," Ron murmured politely with a bowed head. "You might know why we are here?" It was as much a statement as a question and the woman nodded.

"Aye, wee lad." She gestured to the swing opposite her rocking chair. "Take a seat."

Ron slid down into the gently rocking swing, Jake curled into his side and lap as the shorter teen laid across most of the surprisingly long bench seat. A calm breeze ruffled their hair playfully as the woman went back to her shelling. Ron watched for a while, the calm of the world seeping into his body after an eventful last few days. A nagging question did lurk in his mind, though. "What may we call you?" he wondered softly. A small chuckle greeted his inquiry.

"Call me Ma Forest, chil'. And wha' be yer names, lads?"

Ron thought this over, Ma Forest obviously not being her real name, but a name probably well known throughout the area. "He shall be Burn Scale. I will be Honey Eyes. Will that suffice, Ma Forest?"

Ma Forest laughed brightly. "Yeh are a smart one, aren't yeh, lad? Good o' yeh to realize the true venture o' names." She clapped her hands with unbound glee. "An' since yeh are so willin' teh play me game, I'll answer yeh rightly."

Ron again bowed his head. He was getting the hang of this, finding answers on his own or with a friend and partner. "Please, Ma Forest. I'm worried."

Jake turned tighter into Ron's side, the ebony head snuggling deeper into his thigh. Ron's fingers carded through the thick hair, tugging gently on the ends. Ma Forest watched for a moment, her gray-blue eyes going glassy with thought. "I ha' heard o' this 'appenin' beh-fore, but I've neva seen it. He shared 'is life wit' yeh, didn' he?"

Ron dipped his head. "I believe so." He fished in his shirt to pull out a claw strung on a strip of black leather. "I found this pressed into my hand when I woke up."

Ma Forest's eyes widened. "Praise be, chil'! No wonder Burn Scale is in trouble, yeh ken?" She patted down her apron front, the linen colored old white-gray with use and lightly stained in finger and hand shapes. Her gray dress wasn't much more than that of an old sack dress with a tucked waist and skirts that fell to cover her feet. "Yeh need teh do sometin' soon, too. Yeh can either consummate the bond, or yeh can—Ah, HA! 'Ere, 'ave dis. Yeh can share blood."

Ron froze. Jake stopped breathing. "I can't force J-Burn into this! He – he shouldn't have to worry about it to begin with! Isn't there another way?" Ron pleaded with the woman, his honey eyes big, bright, and so sad. Ma Forest was secretly cooing at the kicked-puppy look.

"Honey chil', take dis," she forced what she had in her hands to Ron. Her eyes were very warm now, comforting and understanding. "I know yeh be afraid. I ken it keenly, bu' yeh need ta do dis," she implored softly. "Yeh need ta do dis. It will save yeh both, an' yeh know it will, chil'. Open your 'eart an' mind to deh power yeh 'old in yeh 'and."

Ron just looked at her, his fingers curled around the object of their own violation. A second hand covered his, a tanned, strong hand that belonged to his companion and boyfriend. "R-Honey . . . do it. We need it—I need it desperately."

"But," Ron started hesitantly, his heart in his eyes as he looked down to Jake in a terrified yet hopeful state. "We'll be stuck. Forever. No matter if we love, hate, or have sheer indifference to one another for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to regret this, regret being bound to . . . to me of all people."

"Why do I feel pain?"

Ron blinked at the seemingly random question. He shrugged and looked to Ma Forest. Ma stared at them for a moment, closing her eyes before looking again. A small smirk quirked her lips. "'Cause deh partial bond is only one-way. Burn Scale is dealin' wit' all o' Honey Eye's physical pain an' healin'. Once yeh two bond proper like, it'll be both ways makin' it a bit moar equal."

Ron stared at her, his eyes starting to glaze as he ran a finger over what she had given him. He traced the sharp edges – volcanic glass marked as their final weapon of desperation, their eyes the true colors of Life made tangible – and then squeezed enough for blood to flow. Jake seemed to understand what it was that Ron had done and gently took the piece into his hand to do the same before pressing his palm to Ron's. Ma Forest cried out as light bound them so tightly to one another it was as if the sun had exploded.

When she could see again, both teens were dazed and tired, their bodies fighting them for internal balance. Jake was the first to recover, his body bowing up as he stretched muscles that had been abused from seizures and erratic bouts of pain. It was as if he could suddenly function again, and it truthfully was that. Ron, on the other hand, went down hill fast as his skin became sallow and a fever gripped him tightly. With Ron as he was now, there was no way they would be driving back tonight.

Ma Forest put aside her cleaning and shelling, helping the young dragon move his mate into a guest bedroom just for this purpose. After the two settled in for the late afternoon-early night, she called someone with shaking hands and a trembling voice. "Ue? I've nevar seen dis beh-fore. Why didnae yeh warn meh?"


	10. Poke Not the Dragon that Sleeps

':.`*`.:'

Ron sat staring at an exhausted Jake. His fever had broken some time this morning and ever since, the blond had been unable to sleep or, in this case, go back to sleep. Tender fingers brushed Jake's hair back from his face leaving it soft and inviting.

Not up to molesting his lover awake, he set about trying to find anything different than before. Nothing was pointy (or pointier in the case of his ears), deadly to use, or suddenly poisonous. No claws, fangs, scales, wings, tails, fur, double joints (though he had them anyway), glowing, spontaneous combustion, vanishing equipment or extra appendages. He sighed in relief.

Getting a sudden thought, he looked at his hands, the small tattoo like shapes and lines bolder and just a bit darker from the icy blue. Figuring he might as well learn now as opposed to later, he thought of something, anything, when he looked back as Jake. The dragon child was snuggled into his side, lips parted in sleep. Ron's fingers went to trace his lips, the blue flashing – a pretty blond girl kissing him—cloaked girl hitting him square in the face—Trixie kissing his cheek and giving him a noogie—the heat and warmth of another blond, this one male – and he blinked at the new stream of information. Since Ron had never been kissed by any blond girl or Trixie, he assumed rightly that it had been Jake's memories.

"Ron?"

Jake was gazing blearily up at Ron, his dark eyes taking in the blond to make sure he was alright. Ron leaned in and tilted his forehead against Jake's. "I'm fine now. Better, even."

Jake glared critically at him, his sharp eyes telling Ron just what the Asian boy thought of the blond's ability to tell the truth when it came to his health. "Mhm, don't believe you."

Ron grinned and kissed Jake softly on the cheek with a small blush. "Yeah, well, it is true this one time. Other than a stiffness, nothing actually hurts." He stretched out, his back arching high off the bed as he yawned widely. "I feel pretty damned good, actually. No pain, little stiffness, nor am I experiencing the need to be head honcho."

Jake was staring at Ron, his eyes taking in the fact that his boyfriend was incredibly flexible. Smooth muscles rippled where the shirt the blond was wearing had ridden up to under his arms, his pants having slid down enough to show the wide elastic band of his underwear and the deep teal color of the cloth. Rolling over and on top of his bonded, Jake smirked at the almost startled squeak that managed to escape Ron's mouth. "Mm, good," he purred, running his hands up the pale stomach and to his chest, urging him out of the top. Ron blushed as the shirt fell to the bedside, his brown eyes looking away.

"Hey, now. None of that," Jake murmured as he tilted Ron's head back. He nibbled on the blond's neck, sucking and licking around to his jugular and causing the teen under him to moan out. Jake chuckled as he went about his lively and much enjoyed task with enthusiasm, trying to wring as many sounds from the delicious male as he wriggled in between those long pant encased legs.

Ron felt as if he were on fire, a gentle one, as it built up in his stomach and further down, his mouth open on pants as small sounds escaped him against his will and to his embarrassment. Who made sounds like that? But Jake was making him forget, his mind going into goo as his body was turned to quivering nerves with every caress and bite. When Jake captured a nipple in his mouth, Ron arched into the suction, his eyes closing and a muffled scream fled from his throat. Deft fingers flicked his other one, the blond drowning in the feeling of thick heat filling him from head to toe.

By some unspoken mutual consent, Jake didn't let his hands go further than the waist of Ron's pants . . . well, his briefs. This time.

':.`*`.:'

Ma Forest had been this close – this close – to opening the door when a deep, long moan met her ears causing a flush to brush her cheeks. "Oh dear," she whispered as she took several steps back. Not even a second later and the house was flooded with enough energy to make her feel faint. It even rattled the pictures on the wall and sent the pots hanging over the stove to clanging softly. A loud cry heard even out here brought a larger wave crashing down, her body now trembling with the force of the power surging. It was the scream that made everything shudder in wonderment as her wards were engorged on the overflow causing them to actually become visible for a moment.

She just couldn't imagine a power that strong.

Preparing herself to go forth into the Lion's Den – the name of the room due to its golden hue but now a much more accurate feeling of doom and the bitter tang of irony – the door opened and Jake stood there, mildly startled to see the older woman standing there silently. A blush rose from his cheeks like neon but he was more or less dressed, if disheveled. But . . . he didn't smell of sex. Semen and sweat and his mate, yes. Sex, no. Her eyes closed. They weren't having true sex and were able to produce that much magic, that much soul searing power without consummating their bond all the way? Ue owed her more than she had first thought.

"I came to tell you that you must leave soon. There are those who would wish you harm for being here."

Jake sighed and nodded, grabbing a few fruits from a bowl and disappearing again into the room. "Ron? We have to leave now. Ma Forest is in danger because we're here."

The blond rose from the bed, stretching and near purring as he looked at Jake from half-lidded eyes that made the dragon warm all over again. Gathering their bits of scattered clothing, Ron went about tidying himself up, slipping his shirt and pants back on. "Sure. However, you do not get to drive. That is my baby out in the drive."

Jake snorted. "Seriously?"

Ron gave a definite smirk, an expression he must have learned from Jake since it seemed too new on his face. "You'll see."

Leaving the room, Ron saw Ma Forest there and bowed low. "Thank you, milady, and may you and your loved ones never suffer." Jake glanced at him in mild curiosity, no matter that he followed his bonded's lead. Ron nodded one last time out the door and grinned at the sight of the deliciously decadent tri-cycle as Jake spluttered. "I thought you might have missed that. You were pretty out of it."

Jake scooted around the cycle with a look of awe and thrill. "I missed this?"

"Hop on. It'll only take a few hours to get back home if I engage the turbo." Ron offered the back seat in an almost mocking manner, joking when Jake swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you wound me!"

Jake wrinkled his nose. "Just get on the damned bike, blondie."

Rumbling to life, the bike transformed back to its former state, Ron slowly turning them around and down the drive to the asphalt. "Hold tight, don't move too much, and hope that this baby can keep us off any radars and photo systems."

Jake gulped.

"Tracking Scrambler initiated. Level of danger?" the bike beeped mechanically.

"No danger. Need to be fast."

There was a whir of gears. "Accepted. Proceed."

Ron grinned as he felt the seats lay out. With a quiet laugh, he pushed the silver knob, the two rocketing forward and back onto the highway and on their way home.

':.`*`.:'

Ron gave a whoop of joy as the overhead visor clicked back into an ordinary face plate that set thickly on the front of the tri-cycle. Jake was blinking rapidly, trying to bring the world back into focus. Who knew the Am-Drag was ever so slightly motion sick? At least, after three hundred miles per hour. Or was it pressure sick after three Gs? Cause having his stomach adhere itself to his spine was vastly unpleasant.

"Ever do that again and I will hurt you," Jake gagged out as he tried to breathe through the nausea.

Ron laughed as he cocked his hip out to the side, breathing on his fingers before buffing them. "You just can't stop something this damned good."

They both chuckled, Jake's a little strained, when a strange hush seem to befall them, something fearsome tickling their napes. As one, the two turned to see Mel standing with hands on her hips, eyes narrowed and face set in a dangerous pout. Jake was along the lines of "Please tell me she isn't gonna cry." Ron was more realistic and terrified as "Oh . . . hell" ran through his thoughts before his arms were not so gently rung from the sockets as Aunt Mel grabbed him up like a naughty child.

"You, young man, are, from this point on, grounded until further notice," she hissed out . . . right before bursting into tears. "You didn't even leave a number!" she wailed as she glued herself to Ron's side, hugging him breathless and blue. "I was so worried!"

Ron awkwardly rubbed her back, soothing her as best he could while glaring at a gleefully grinning Jake. "It's alright, Mel. We just didn't have time-" which could be seen as a lie but he had felt the need to be elsewhere as fast as they could, "and we were running out of options and power too quickly to ask for a search. I just did what I had to, Auntie."

The short blond calmed marginally, her big, luminous blue eyes looked up into his own brown eyes. "You haven't called me 'Auntie' like that since you were seven. I'm glad I have my Ron back." She hugged him again, less force, but all the more sincere. "Now, we have to call Grandpa and your mother. They're both worried sick!"

Ron gave a grin, quirking a brow. "I guess Jake still stays?"

Mel cocked a hip and punched her tiny finger, obviously made of steel, into his chest. "Don't you go all weird on me, mister. Of course Jake stays. He needs to, remember? And I saw the speed you were getting on that bike as you pulled around the corner. Don't you be driving so recklessly! Another thing-!"

Jake leaned into Ron as Mel continued, walking up the steps like a goddess expecting the two to follow her inside. Ron engaged the security measures of his beloved tri-cycle, slinging his arm around Jake's shoulder. Jake snuggled into the embrace. "Think we should tell your aunt we're all but married?"

Ron snorted softly as he rubbed his face against Jake's hair. "Tomorrow, maybe, but we'll still take this slow, okay? I don't want to rush just because we are bonded."

Jake smirked as he leaned his head back to kiss Ron's cheek. "Sure, buddy. Now, time for food?"

Ron nodded. "Of course. I need to make this up to Mel. A large chocolate Cake of Death should do it."

Jake chuckled as they neared their landing. "How did I get so lucky to have a boyfriend that cooks?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "The same way that my boyfriend is a dragon . . . and not only in bed." Jake chocked, Ron laughing as he slipped away and ran for it. The young dragon snorted. His human-ish boyfriend was such a pain about that.

':.`*`.:'

The talks over the phone had gone well enough, sort of. Gramps was near apocalyptic after Jake's mother and sister both had minor crying fests. Ron's mother and father were distraught. What if one of Kimberly's enemies had gotten him? That had been a total of four days ago. Being grounded and confined to Ron's room sucked. Being in there together made it suck less, but nonetheless, it sucked.

They were bored.

They were bonded.

They were dating.

Something that volatile should be monitored. Aunt Mel wasn't able to do much herself since she worked, but having Ming Ue do it for her was worse. Maybe. The woman seemed to always be "too bizzy, go to room, I got work" as she shuffled to her own apartment, clanking heard periodically. This left them "free" to do whatever they wished . . . inside Ron's room. They're teenagers. Being resourceful is their bread and butter.

Having a tongue down their throats as they kissed might have had something to do with the oddly chocked gasp coming from the door. Really, one had to realize that, yes, they were going to be cuddly and kissy and all over each other. Jake ignored them, letting Ron loom over him and turn his brain into mush. He'd be damned that someone stopped Ron from blowing his mind with the skill in those kisses. For a guy who didn't have many (or any) girlfriends or boyfriends, he was quite skilled and could make Jake loose his mind in a matter of minutes with just his mouth. He'd actually cum from that alone once, embarrassing, but fucking good.

Ron laying full body to him was like an electrical current, his mouth gasping for air as his lover took time to dot his face with peppered kisses before looking towards the door. The moment he did, Ron froze, angry tension lacing his body to soon be replaced by sad acceptance. "What do you want, Kimberly? I know Aunt Mel did not invite you."

Jake shook his head, trying to clear it of the sexual cobwebs, as he rubbed a hand down Ron's side. "Let me up," he whispered to Ron, sighing as he was able to wiggle into a sitting position. With a frown, he faced the doorway, black eyes narrowed. "What an unpleasant surprise. What do you want with my boyfriend?" he left bitch off for the moment. She just might be reasonable, but he sincerely doubted it.

The look of revulsion on her face was enough to make Jake curl his lip back in a silent snarl. She had better watch the fuck out of he'd rip her face off, protector of the NYC or not. "What are you doing, Ron? A boy? Were you just playing me, or is this something you hid?"

Ron flinched as the acidic tone and less than pleasant words. Jake frowned harder. "I am not sure of all that happened, but it shouldn't concern you now, stupid bitch." He glared at the red head in the door. "Hell, you shouldn't even be here. You were not invited and sure as hell ain't wanted, princess, so fuck off."

Apparently, all red heads having a temper was true in this case. She exploded, screeching at them that Ron shouldn't be so unnatural and that he should come home so he could be normal again. Jake felt the hurt radiating off his bonded, his eyes flashing dangerously in a way that even the Underground wouldn't dare touch with a ten foot, gold-plated pole. The small wet drop, a tear, was it for his patience.

"You fucking whore!" he roared as he slid to his feet, body seeming to enlarge as he let his wings and tail form about his still human body. "You will leave. Now! My boyfriend is not your toy, not a pet, and sure as hell ain't your lover or brother. He does not answer to you. Melinda is currently his only authority. She approves of this, and fuck you for not even considering what kind of hell you put your supposedly best friend through." He stalked forward, his words becoming whisper soft and edgy. "If you don't want me to rip your throat out, I'd suggest leaving right fucking now."

He had leaned in, words whispered against her ear, red slowly climbing up his arms from the decidedly deadly black talons gracing his fingers like razor edges. Kim shuddered and gulped. She had never actually been given a real death threat before. Been detained, restrained, and in general threatened with being either detained or restrained, but . . . death threats were something that her enemies didn't do. Like it was taboo to kill a teenager. Well, now the one threatening her was a teenager with a vendetta against her, and his very inhumane abilities frightened her all the more in that he really wouldn't just stop at mild threats but go through with actual life taking. It left a bitter taste in her mouth as she was forced out of the room, the door slammed in her face. It shouldn't have been this way! Ron was supposed to always follow her, through thick and thin! Not . . . not be unnatural and gay.

Jake was breathing hard, his eyes flashing as he stared at the door. It had taken everything in him to not break her effin' neck with a flick of his wrist, but he had managed to calm himself. The tiny whimpering gasp had him whirling around, his eyes widening at the sight of Ron trying to quietly cry, pillow pulled to his face. All the mad, the anger, the hate, left. His bonded, his boyfriend and lover needed him. Needed his comfort and whatever else he could give.

"Oh Ron," he murmured in an unknown mimicry of Aunt Mel months ago. "Don't you know," he asked as he settled around the taller blond, "that sunshine isn't supposed to cry?"

It took a moment, but there was a wet laugh. "That was corny, Jake."

The dragon child grinned, burrowing his face in Ron's hair while rubbing his side in circles. "Yeah, but it worked, didn't it? I made you laugh."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered as he wiped his face, snuggling up around Jake. "You'll make it all better, Momma Jake. Just no going Mary Poppins on me, okay?"

Jake shuddered. "Okay, dude, I don't even want to know."

Ron chuckled, face in Jake's neck. "Mmmm, too bad the mood was ruined. We were really having fun." He nipped the skin by his mouth. "Want to try for it again?"

Jake laughed as he hugged Ron tight. "Maybe later. I can hear Aunt Mel coming up." It was normal now that Jake could hear things so far away. Actually, since their bonding, Jake's abilities had gone through the roof. Gramps had been less than enthused about why Jake was suddenly stronger, better, faster, more aware, but after a long talk, the three had come to something of an understanding. Kind of. Okay, not at all since that meant that Jake couldn't reproduce and spread the dragon gene, but Mrs. Long was fine with it. She had her daughter Hailey for any reproduction necessary. And the little girl had already agreed to have at least four children, wanting a large family in the country. Jake had called her more insane than a menstruating Harpy without her happy juice or something along those lines.

"Boys! I brought home some of Nancy's lasagna. Who's hungry?"

Jake shook his head. "Ya know, with the pregnancy, I think she has eaten more than you and me both in one sitting. I hadn't thought that possible."

Ron snorted. "I was wondering just how her appetite would change. Question answered."

':.`*`.:'

Jake slithered from the bed, Ron out completely, a few tears still lingering on his pale gold lashes. That stupid bitch. She had done this, reopened all those old wounds, making the scarring worse, bigger, harder to heal.

"Jake?"

Mel was standing there, pint of chocolate ice cream in one hand, frozen grapes, sliced strawberries, and cinnamon and sugar fried apple slices in the other. Her expression was worried since she had rarely seen the two newly bonded apart from each other in all the time since they came back. Hell, even before then!

"Mel," he uttered softly, nodding his head back towards the kitchen. She followed him back in, placing her things on the table and sitting down, just watching Jake move around. It was a moment as he took down a wok and started gathering the necessary spices. "Possible paid a visit when you were out."

The older woman looked very suddenly dangerous and Jake almost felt sorry for the red-headed bitch. "What did she do and how much am I going to enjoy kicking her ass?"

Jake grinned grimly. "She called Ron an 'unnatural fag' and said that he was disgusting. Then, she proceeded to scold him for leaving, for moving away from her." He sneered, an equally fearsome expression on Mel's face. "I told her I would kill her."

Mel was silent as the sound of frying oil filled the air, ginger billowing deliciously as he washed and cleaned the veggies, giving himself time to calm. "Did Ron hear?"

"No."

She sat back, munching on a grape. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation, no inflection, but it was a sincere and emphatic response.

"Good," she murmured as she dug back into her ice cream, adding the apples and strawberries in between popping grapes like candy. "He needs a protector from her and someone who will stand up for him, not against him. Not to ridicule him. Make sure you are the one that does that, as much as I and his parents will. He will need it soon."

Jake turned to look at her. "What?"

His voice had been a soft, dangerous hiss of escaped air. Mel looked at him sternly. "Those Harpies, their leader Babita, she said their Sooth Sayer was worried over the young hatchling. That his Dragon Protector would be put to the test. I worry for you both."

Jake stared hard at her. "What did she say about you? And don't even say they didn't. Harpies are not known to just warn people. They have to have knowledge of the one they give the prophetic message to."

Mel groaned. "Just that the lines of three are held together by the blood of one, whatever that means."

Jake chuckled at her disgruntled expression. Making a pregnant woman upset was a generally bad idea, but he was quick enough to duck away just in case. "I guess we'll have to see on that one, then."

Mel wrinkled her nose. I guess. Hey, give me some ah that."


	11. If It's Not One Thing, It Is Another

':.`*`.:'

It got quiet for a while, not even the magical community acting up. Aunt Mel started showing early, the woman seemingly worried. Of course, at only seven weeks, this was unusual. Jake's mother came over to talk about babies, pregnancies, and all that came with it. She also put to bed those scared speculations Mel was making.

"Don't worry," Mrs. Long cooed kindly to Mel. She patted the blond woman's hand and gave her a hug. "Those hormones of yours are going to go out of whack. It's perfectly normal and even expected. I have a few books I want to lend you. They should help you prepare and even give you an idea on what to expect."

Mel sniffled as she returned the hug, nearly crawling into Mrs. Long's lap. The older woman didn't mind it at all, stroking the soft blond hair of her friend to help comfort her. Ron stumbled in, sleep-crusted eyes opened blearily as he ignored to two women. Grabbing left over macaroni and half a pie, he left again. Mel held a hand to her mouth as she started to giggle. Mrs. Long chuckled as she laid her head against the table top. Even when life around them was crumbling and fracturing, teenage boys always seem to make it simple. Food and sleep, food and sleep …

"You know," Mel began. "I keep making this so hard and complicated and Ron just comes in and makes me realize how silly I'm acting!" She snorted. "Even when he's all zombie-no-talk-to-me-still-sleeping first thing in the morning."

The two shared a conspiratorial look before they went off again, giggling like little girls.

':.`*`.:'

Jake groaned as he stretched, setting up to do his katas on the roof of Ron and Mel's apartment complex. Ron was on the other end, contorting into shapes that would have made Jake groan in pain if not for the fact that it was his boyfriend doing so and making him loose concentration again. Can anyone ever guess why?

Sighing into his arm as he dropped his last kata stance, he rolled his neck making it pop and crunch. "I'm going down to get something to drink. Want anything?"

Ron shook his head, eyes closed as he gripped his ankles … backwards. He looked almost snapped in half the curve was so severe in his spine. Jake shivered all over before fleeing to the cool and less than arousing stairwell. Padding near silently down and through the door, he was astonished to see Aunt Mel struggling against a set of lumbering goons. It didn't last, his protective instincts coming to the fore. He snarled wordlessly as he lunged. He never saw the steel pole that planted a goose egg on his skull.

It wasn't long afterward that Ron came down, wiping sweat from his face with a towel. He nearly missed the fact that the door was open. His calm and contentment slithered away slowly as he blinked at the strange sight. His heart filled with dread at the sight of smudged, sticky red in the hall. His veins iced in unvoiced horror when he saw the destruction of the kitchen. Gripping the phone and ripping it from the hook, he dialed Gramps.

"Gramps! Something happened! … Aunt Mel and Jake are gone!" he didn't listen to the reply, hanging up and racing to his room for his Communicator. His CL was still in the top drawer of his desk and fully charged. Sighing in some relief, he dialed out to Wade, his heart hammering so hard in his chest it hurt. "WADE!"

The boy on the screen cringed at the scream, covering his ears. "Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Ron. Where's the fire?"

Ron felt his eyes get damp and a sob catch in his chest. "They're gone, Wade. Someone took them! The kitchen is trashed, there's blood on the floor, and I think I'm loosing my mind!" He choked as tried to talk, dropping his communicator as he curled in on himself. "He's gone, he's gone and I can't feel him anymore …"

Wade was typing so fast his hands were a blur. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll be up there very soon. Just wait for us, okay?"

Ron shivered and trembled, hugging himself as he rocked. His mate was gone … his mate was gone! His aunt was gone. The foundations of his world were missing. He knew his reactions were extreme, over the top, but … he just, he couldn't handle if those two so important people were gone. Not yet … maybe not ever.

"I'm going to the magic alley." It was a split-second decision as he got to his shaky feet, grabbing his communicator even as Wade made a token protest. "I'm going to rally who and what I can. Meet us at the entrance when you get here."

He wasn't sure how he got there, or even if he was properly dressed, but he did strike a vision. Unknowingly to him, his eyes were glowing gold as the panic faded into a righteous fury that bled from his body in waves. No one creature would stall him, his presence making many cower in fear. The golden human-that-wasn't finally made it to the Harpies, his voice coming soft but steely.

"I am in need. Help me in rescuing my mate and my kin?" he asked formally.

Babita, a lovely red and gold colored Harpy, stepped forward. As the leader of her clan, it was her right to deny or acquiesce his need of aid. She stared at the tall boy, her Amazonian height forcing him to look up at her, but not shudder in fear or back down. No, he challenged her to be harsh and demanding and unhelpful, demanded that she and her own come with him into an unknown. When the silence stretched so tight it was fraying, he turned from her, not completely, but dismissing her when she refused to – or could not – voice her answer. "I see," he murmured, darkness lacing his words like venomous shadows. "I will seek elsewhere."

For such simple words, their ring was ominous, terrifying in their intensity. Babita cried out with the sound of a bird, screeching. "We will help you, mortal son."

His golden-glowing eyes looked back to her, his face blank. "I am not so sure you would be of service if you are unwilling to act on my behalf. Or, at least, act swiftly. I have others to ask. Follow if you want, come if you wish, but do not hinder me."

And so he walked on, ignoring the primal screams of incredulity and anger. The dragons came to him, their human eyes flashing with reptilian patterns. "We will aid you, mortal son, mate of one of our own."

Ron felt viciously joyed, though it was cold and frozen in his chest. "Any others willing to aid me and mine?" When no other approached, he nodded. "Just remember. They can find you, take you from your homes, and unless someone witnesses it, mortal or magic, you will be lost. And I will not help you, aid your endeavors. Instead, I will stay away, watching, lingering on, but never giving of myself for those in need." He stared at them all, shivers working on their inhuman bodies the way snow and frost never would. Never could. "I take my leave of you."

His last words were so low, chilling, fervently speaking of his acceptance and retribution. The dragons and harpies followed, a few from other species and clans joining in a trickle as he led them from the alleys of magic to the mundane. His eyes widened as they met Wade's rich black-brown.

"I got the posse. Ready to rescue, buddy?"

Spud, Trixie, Jim and Tim, and Artemis with Butler stood there, kitted out for their impromptu mission. A delicate smile lifted the corner of his mouth. "I had no idea you could be here so quickly."

Wade shrugged. "When you are a genius, you tend to figure out alternatives." He straightened, grabbing up a pack and slinging it at Ron. The blond caught it, lifting a brow at the heavy corners prodding his belly and chest. "That has enough gadgets to make the CIA and SEALS squeal with envy. Put on the suit right quick, it will help limit the damage from shrapnel and even possibly stop a bullet from piercing something vital. The gloves have an automatic energy converter that diverts electrical or laser discharges when in standby mode. When this is finished, I will show you all the fun stuff they can do."

Ron slipped behind a dumpster, shucking the over-sized clothes for the formfitting body suit that reminded him more of a wetsuit than anything else. Of course, it did look like something from a Sci-Fi movie convention. Sliding on the gloves last – time, hours, spent trying to make them work as frustration filled him. Why were they constantly full of static – he marveled at the fit. Fingerless gloves, kind of – not really – since the wires of transmitters ran all down his fingers but left his skin mostly bare. The icy blue of the strange tattoos lit up against the copper and underlying black rubber backing like mini neon lights. This would do.

Stepping out, ready, he looked around him, from friends to volunteers and mismatched allies. "Let's go. Now."

':.`*`.:'

Wade had coordinates. Not because he had science on his side, but because Ron was telling him what he saw. The other beings shivered every time the blond touched the ground, the walls, the air, and was able to know on such an intimate level what was going on, had happened, might happen. The sketchy visions of a wharf, boats, a rotted dock with a cave nearby, narrowed the search from the entire line of beaches to two. Wade wasn't even sure what their names were, but Ron had little care for those simple details. Instead, he forged forward, seeking what no one else could, seeing in a way that, had he not been so desperately worried about Auntie Mel and his new friend Jake, he might have been frightened as much if not more than the magicals at his and Ron's back.

Dark was now a heavy mantle across their shoulders, diamonds scattered across the velvet of the sky. The temperature dropped drastically, those not used to freezing winds shivering or cowering in their clothing. Wade felt the biting frost that came with it and wondered if it would snow so early, yet. He turned to look at his fellow genii, one recently "born" into the fold.

"What do you two think?" he murmured, his voice rippling like thunder. Artemis seemed slightly confused, his gaze looking over the black boy in assessment. Spud, however, let loose a primal growl.

"Someone either is after Jake because he is the American Dragon and the protector of the States, or … or they want to dissect Aunt Mel for the baby. Of course, those are only wild guesses at this stage, but at least we have a starting point."

Artemis gave the tall brown haired surfer boy a strange glance, a brow lifting as if something had just made itself known to him. Wade quirked his lips. He knew the feeling. Getting used to this new Spud after dealing with him as a surfer bum instead of a surfer boy was difficult.

"Sshhhh," hummed Ron, the blond slithering further from the humans and magicals, the suit helping him blend as the automatic camouflage engaged. Wade made a mental note to give the blond the User's Manual when this was all over since he doubted he could tell the other all the details. Like the fact that the adrenaline and spike of fear pheromones had set off a chain reaction in the suit that did many things, one of which made it into on-the-go camo fatigues and another that tightened the fibers making the suit nigh on indestructible.

The groups stopped, their visual of their Leader non-existent right at this point, the dragons voicing soft protests at being left behind as the Harpies garbled softly at each other. Wade jumped out of his skin when Ron appeared beside him, the shorter boy pulling back what looked like a hood. The giant ebony haired boy wondered when his friend had found the time to actually look over the suit …

"Organize them."

Wade grabbed the barely visible shoulder, halting Ron's move. "How many, what are you going to be doing, and when do you need us to strike?" The tall boy looked into the haunted gold eyes of a very close friend. They had to think about this calmly, no matter that every second wasted could bring them later horror and misery.

"I'll be getting Mel and Jake. You all are going to take on those bastards and hopefully rid the world of a few more sons of bitches. And don't worry, you'll know when I'll need you."

Ron pulled up his hood and all but vanished. Wade made a noise of frustration. "Yes, but how many?"

"I dunno," came the soft, flippant reply. "Too many for me too find them all."

Wade snorted. "Just don't die."

"Wouldn't dream of it ..." the reply was so soft, Wade was surprised he heard it, no sound coming from where he suspected Ron to be other than a soft breeze.

He shivered as foreboding ran down his spine like a sliver of ice. Their enemies were going to regret going against his friend. He just wasn't sure how bad it was going to be …

':.`*`.:'

The door guard was dead, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Ron gagged back the bile in his throat. He didn't have time for being weak. He had to save his mate and his aunt. If it took taking out the people who had stolen them away and making sure they could never do so again, then so be it. However, he hoped it never became easy. Loosing his humanity wouldn't do anyone any good.

Crawling silently into the building after frisking the guard, he used the card he found to open the door before laying it back on top of body.

The place was crawling with security guards, men with Uzis and Beretta handguns cocked and ready to go. He snorted silently, breaking another man's neck with a twist of his arms before dragging the body into an open crate. He wouldn't feel bad for the idiots if they were so under-trained. Of course, he was also getting violently ill inside his own mind, stepping back a little more to let the mercenary persona of the Monkey Fist help him.

"I swear, this is what it means to have a multiple personality disorder," he mused morbidly in his mind as his gaze went out over the expanse of the modified warehouse. "Three doors, one open and showing the classically cliché bad guys playing poker. Another open and showing … who is probably their boss and now dead man walking. Last is closed. Probably Aunt Mel and Jake."

Gliding around the outside of the open space, ducking behind crates and moving stealthily, the tall blond stood next to the door. He stared in exasperation at the key pad. Damn the bad guys actually being smart for once. That meant Dr. D and Sheego were out, as were most of Kim's less than pleasant acquaintances. He put his hand against the door only to find himself highly surprised when the steel swung in slightly on silent hinges. The soft whispers of Aunt Mel's voice was reassuring, though. Taking a deep breath for any unwanted surprises, he slid in, the door barely moving enough to admit him before closing again.

"Never mind. There is a chance this is one of Kimberly's adversaries," he tallied as he thought of all the stupid mistakes so far.

His first sight of room was chilling. It was set up like an ER, without all the sanitizing bits and pieces and strangely even more sterile for it. A small sigh left his lips when he saw Aunt Mel sitting on a bed. Though strapped as she was, the small blond woman was fine, no blood and her baby bump still clearly visible without that sunken, empty look. That, and she looked remarkably calm if pale. Then his gaze swung over to the other side of the room.

All the blood left his face as he looked upon his mate, helplessness raising up to swallow him. He finally caught on to why Aunt Mel was so pale and striving for calm and it made him terrified and enraged at the same time. It was a wonder Jake was even alive …

The short but stocky teen was tied to rune marked steel, the metal leeching on him as it would a faye. Hanging around his neck, a stark pendent of what looked to be blood made solid pulsed weakly and was attached to a floating paper with a needle bouncing on it. It took a moment for Ron to realize it was like a magic heart monitor and showed just how badly Jake was suffering. However, it was the soft smell of dragon's bane that made Ron search before his eyes landed on the tube of dripping fluid pinned so carefully into one of Jake's veins. Fury raced through him for a moment before the sight of his loving Aunt quelled it.

"Release her and Jake first, then be angry. Signal the others, let them slay these bastards," he reminded not only himself but his other. With a nod to himself, he slipped forward, wrapping a hand around Mel's mouth as he let his face come into view just above her own. The muffled shriek flared into a glare as she look at her nephew before smiling softly at him from behind his fingers. Tears glittered in her eyes as she was released, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging the other blond so hard, Ron had difficulty breathing.

"What do you need, baby?" she whispered into his hair, kissing his forehead.

"I'm going to make a big bang to alert the others and bring on the Calvary. I want you to get out the back with me as I carry Jake once I come back. Can you run?"

The short woman gave a small nod. "I'm a little shaky but I'm not incapable."

Ron smiled ever so slightly, forcing the expression as he let her go, stepping back and helping her from the gurney. The chattering of a familiar animal reached his ears and he looked down to see Rufus climbing from Aunt Mel's pocket.

"Thanks for taking care of her, lil' buddy," he murmured lowly, patting the bald head of his naked mole-rat. "Were you the one to open the door?"

The little creature nodded, winking at his human. Ron shook his head before stepping back and going to Jake's side, smoothing back the sweaty hair to look at the too pale face of his mate and love. His hands tightened into fists before he forcibly calmed himself and went to work on the straps holding down his lover, grateful that they were not like the kind that were a part of the metal. Still, he had to have Rufus pick several locks with his claws before gently lifting the other boy up. Mel sat so she could hold Jake in her lap in a dark corner, hiding behind a movable curtain stand. Almost reaching out to remove the pendant, Mel stopped him, looking guilty about doing so but still adamant.

"Don't. It sets off an alarm every time it is."

Ron sighed before letting it be for now, pulling his hood clear over his face and "vanishing" like magic. "I'll be right back. Don't move and, please, don't let them find you."

Mel felt like she had nodded to air and sighed. Her baby boy was growing up too fast …

':.`*`.:'

Spud conferred with Wade and Artemis, the pale boy there more for his knowledge of crime than for any charging. Spud agreed that it was best for the boy to play to his strengths where he and Wade were built for bashing a few skulls. Butler was only there as a bodyguard, though he did share his input and intelligence of the situation, though it was woefully little. Jim and Tim were wrestling with some new tech, pushing their creative limits as they played with a few baddie vehicles, and generally making get away cars and trucks for their surprising numbers. It was the magicals that were driving themselves nuts until Trixie growled at them and put them in their places, be that they needed it or not. All came to a stand still when there was a burst of gun fire echoing from inside the building. Wade bellowed to get all of their attention.

"MOVE 'EM OUT!"

War cries were released as the Harpies flew up to the windows, smashing them in to take on the beings inside. Spud filched the key card, slashing it and getting a big grin when the door opened so obligingly. Dragons roared out, slithering past when the door was held open, their draconic forms hulking against the smaller humans. The Naga and Lycans too belted inside, hissing and howling as they attacked the humans that flowed from the balcony and at least one room like water pouring over a dam. Ron had been right, there were too many to count.

Spud hefted his club, looking around him at the chaos, startled at the brutality. Only when one man not of their own raised his empty gun to bash a young wolf did he spring forward, lashing out to save the cub. A dim horror sounded in the back of his mind when the club connected with a dull thud, the strength of the blow causing the man's neck to flop over oddly. The cub did nothing other than give a growl of gratitude before rushing off to help others, tearing into a suit that had open-fired on the Harpies. The cocking of a gun knocked his shock back, Spud rounding and flinging out his club to again bash another baddie, catching this one in the crook of his arm where a tremendous crack sounded. The man screamed, dropping as his arm hung wrongly. Spud felt dazed. He wasn't a naturally violent person, this was against who he was, but only a quick glance let him know that he would do this time and again as he caught sight of Mel and Ron cradling a non-responsive Jake as they dashed through the corridor of bodies to the doors. Spud watched as one of the kidnappers pulled a Glock before he spurred into action, running and swinging his club like a bat. There was another dull thud emblazoned across mind and seared into his memory as the man fell without a sound, the gun clattering noisily in comparison.

And then …

It was over. The kidnappers were all disposed of one way or another, only one or two left alive, though not long as a few hungry stares from the magicals promised pain. There was a ruckus as the Boss screamed and threatened. Artemis was there with Butler in moments, the teen letting a darker side come over his visage as he had the man bound and gagged, Butler tossing him over his massive shoulder easily. Trixie appeared at his elbow, red sticky blood coating her left arm and parts of her stomach along with gray bits that he was reluctant to identify. Even with all of their escapades with Jake, they had never had to kill, just subdue. It seems that time of kindness was now moot and their innocence of the subject of death removed.

Wade made his way over, a little green but holding up well considering. He had the Harpie leader Babita and the dragon head following him. Spud blinked dumbly at him, knuckles white on his bloodied club. He wasn't sure when the world turned fuzzy, but it sure was getting dark. He felt himself falling as Trixie screamed his name. Huh … she sounded worried, he mused just before all the lights went out.

':.`*`.:'

Jake wasn't responding at all. Ron was this close – read: this close – to losing his fragile reign on his erratically dispersing emotions and power. It hummed under his skin, burned him even, leaving little other than desperation to have Jake by his side and moving. His psyche was too tender to have something like this happen …

"Ron-baby," Mel whispered as she sat with him, her nephew cradling his lover in his lap. If it weren't for the three Harpies and various other beings around the three, she might have felt immense terror at having just escaped what could have been her brutal death and the building not thirty feet away. It was funny how life turned. "Ron, I have an idea."

The blond boy looked up at his aunt revealing that his eyes had gone flat and glassy, still gold but lessening with every exhalation. Mel took a gloved hand in her own. "Baby, remember you telling me how Jake shared his magic with you and then you did the same with him? Remember that?"

There were soft gasps as such a sensitive subject was brought out into a conversation. The fact that the human child had told his guardian suggested a great confidence and trust in the woman. The fact that she could get his attention at all told of just how much she was prized by the human-boy-that-wasn't.

Ron nodded. He remembered. There was the Talon and the shard of an ancient civilization contained in black glass that the two kept with them at all times. Jake had had the stone pierced through and hung on a leather thong. It was gone for the moment. Where was it? Jake had to have it – Taken from his neck, the thong snapping painfully by being jerked so cruelly. Watching as it was placed on the sterile counter, too far for him to reach even with his tail – if this was to work.

"…"

Mel leaned in, trying to hear Ron. "Baby, you have to speak up. I can't hear you when you do that," she admonished gently, putting her hand on his face, lifting it so she could see all of him. "Please, baby. Talk to me."

"… inside. In the room … counter."

Mel shivered. She couldn't go back in … she just couldn't. She looked at those all around her, pleading softly with her eyes. One broke away from the group, back moments later with the broken leather held between fingertips. Mel took it, pressing the black glass into her nephew's hand. "Here, baby. Just press this to his hand for me." Pulling his hood away from his face, she slipped a tiny finger under the leather band around his own neck and pulled it off. Using the leathers, she tied them both to his hands one at a time before taking Jake's unresponsive fingers and curling them around Ron's. "Here you go, baby. Now, remember. Give him a kiss and let all that magic go."

Ron gave a blink, looking at his mate as he tightened his grip around the glass, claw, and Jake's limp hand. Taking the dark-haired boy's face in his other hand, he leaned down and brushed his lips against his mate's before pressing closer, searching for a response. It came, weakly but most definitely there. The power behind his teeth came rushing out, pulling from the top of his head to his toes. It was heady and hot and so much … it was what he needed more than anything in the world. Time slowed down, lengthened, stopped as the energy of their new bonding thrummed heavily on the air like pulsing sound waves. Time stopped for them, let them have their moment before exploding in light. Mel shielded her face, shivering at the intense feeling of having so much power flowing over her like a tidal wave before it drew back and lost intensity.

When they could all see again, the teens were lying beside one another, Ron curled up against Jake as he held his mate close. Only … they were naked. Mel covered her eyes, sighing in annoyance. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.


	12. Cravings

':.`*`.:'

Hot, hot, endless heat that felt so good ... clawing at his stomach in carnivorous starvation. Sensation ... feeling something even hotter, better, flowing up his side, touching a body that was incorporeal yet not. It was all touch. All delicious, hot, stinging, new, terrifyingly good touch. And he didn't want it to end ...

"Come on, Jake," husked a voice, the hot touch becoming real as he moaned into the mouth hovering above his own. "There is my dragon. Come, luv, wake so I can do something that I've wanted to for weeks now."

"Ron?" he whispered, a cry muffled when trecherous, sinful hands smoothed over his inner thighs by an even more sinful mouth. "Ah! Ron!"

The taller blond shushed him gently, nipping and sucking on the bared bronze neck. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would you?" Jake shook his head, arching into the wet suction on his chest. "Good. I don't wanna scar anyone too badly."

Jake chuckled breathlessly, hissing when sharp nails trailed over his stomach like lit matches, burning his skin. "Oh, fuck, Ron. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck!" he chanted into Ron's neck, curling up when the blond boy grabbed his cock and stroked him almost teasingly. It was too much sensation, but not enough stimulation. What was his lover trying to do? Drive him mad? Make him loose all sense of self? Well, it was working and he would be damned if he could or even wanted to stop it.

"Please!" he begged in a tiny, needy, searing voice that was more sound that word. Ron gave a rough keen as he released his current prize, holding Jake still as he slithered down his body. Instead of giving the ebony-haired teen the usual blow job, the blond lifted those long tan legs over his much paler shoulders, shifting a pillow (where had that come from, Jake had to wonder) under his hips and an arm around his torso. Jake had a second to realize what was about to happen before he bit on his hand, muffling his cry as Ron pulled apart his cheeks and deftly swiped his broad tongue over his pucker. They had only done this once before and Jake very vividly remembered how absolutely delicious and dirty it had felt then ... and did now.

He was too lost in waves of pleasure to notice the small bottle of clear liquid that Ron grabbed, flicking the cap open and dribbling a fair amount on and around his smooth ball sack so that it flowed down his crack. He did notice the teasing finger, tensing and relaxing as he thought of that being in him. It wasn't unpleasant, just new and a bit strange.

When Ron took the tip of his weeping cock into his mouth, he loosed a shout, hands scrambling for purchase on the assumed bed, bunching the covers in his fists. The fact that a finger was inside his ass was negligable in comparison, especially when strong suction took his breath from his lungs. "OhfuckRON!"

Wrist pumping, Ron added a second finger, eliciting another chocked sound from his dragon and loving that he could make the other loose his control so easily. Scissoring his fingers and tightening his hold on the bucking hips, he allowed himself a grin of pride as he slurped at Jake's cock.

A third finger did make his dragon tense, back arching as he cried out wordlessly and little too loud for comfort, but at this point neither teen cared. Ron waited for a small eternity before Jake relaxed and slumped, breath hitching on sobbing pants. Maybe a more chivalrous lover would wait and grant more time, but Ron was aching as bad if not more than Jake, his own cock turning purple with suppressed want and need. Finishing his prepping, he took up the tiny bottle of lubricant again, slathering the cool liquid on the the steel rod that just happened to be attached to his groin. He hissed out at the almost frozen sensation even if he knew intellectually that the lubricant was no where near that cold.

"Rea ... ready, Jake?" he stuttered as he leaned up over his mate. His mate. His mate. How he loved the sound of that bouncing in his mind and nearly off his tongue.

"Please, Ron, please," he sobbed, arching as the aching emptiness throbbed through him. Ron gritted his teeth to keep himself grounded. To hear his lover, his mate beg so intensely was enough to make him struggle for control.

"Slowly, love," he hummed, pressing his blunt head against the desired entrance until the smooth head popped past the tight ring. Jake grabbed the blond's shoulders with black claws, arching like a tightly drawn bow. Ron panted now, head to Jake's shoulder as he shivered. The ebony-haired teen shifted, drawing his human-not-human lover deeper into his body and gasping at the full, heavy feeling that wasn't all that unpleasant.

"More," the dragon nearly cried, wrapping his legs around the blond's waist to draw him deeper. The burn was hot, flame like but oh so welcome. "More, more, more moremoremore," he pleaded almost, demanding certainly.

Ron flexed his hips forward, snapping into the tight heat and hearing a sobbed moan of happiness and joy rumbling against his chest. The fact that Jake was rocking into the motion was more than enough to convince Ron to move, slowly at first - so caution, so tender - but not near enough as he picked up speed, the sound of flesh against flesh soon filling the room along with sobs and cries and moans.

It was the onset of a sudden orgasm that took them by surprise, Jake crying out with the sound of a dragon, muscles clenching tight in his belly and traveling down to even his toes and locking them in place as a wave of indescribable ectasy tore him apart. Ron felt the violent release, the body around him pulling him to his own release that left him breathless and white and hot and too much so good, oh fuck, oh fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck ...

':.`*`.:'

Mel was in the kitchen munching on a large bowl of fruit, dipping a pickle into chocolate sauce when she felt the need. Wade was sitting with her at the table munching on his own chocolate pickle with relish. Spud wrinkled his nose, pointing at the gross food.

"Dude, how did Auntie M talk you into eating that?"

The large black boy shrugged. "It's actually really good. What about your Doritos and peanut butter, huh? I think that's weird. Not to mention Trixie's Salt and Vinegar chips and onion-sour cream dip. Or Jim and Tim's really nasty looking Vomit Bowls."

"HEY!" Jim protested since Tim had his mouth full. "It's not vomit! It's spagetti with tobascco sauce, apple jelly, sour cream, and crunched up Doritos. Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Mel actually seemed interested. "I just might have to."

Everyone else atthe table went a little green - with the exception of the twins - and decided to drink their fairly normal soft drinks in a moment of silence. The resounding roar of a dragon was better heard this way, the group looking up at the ceiling with wide eyes. The half smoothered human cry of completion was enough to tip them off that they really, really, really didn't want to know and should probably strike up some sort of coversation to otherwise occupy themselves.

The varitable tidal wave of sweeping visible magic was more than enough to get them going.

"What the hell was that!"

"JIM! TIM! Watch your language!" Mel barked out.

"Yeah ... what was that?" Spud pondered aloud, his eyes traveling around to find a clue. Wade groaned and planted in face in his hands.

"Jakey-poo and Ron are going to do something weird ... well, weirder with their magic. Again."

Mel sighed and lifted a chocolate covered watermelon chunk to her lips. "You can say that again. At least it's better contained. I mean, the Longs live in a fairly actively magical block. This way less normal humans notice, true?"

There was a general nod of consent to this bit of logic. "Let's just hope it's not too-"

The second, third and even fourth wave of magic swept over them, each one bigger than the previous. "Conspicuous. Never mind. I'll go alert the Longs. Everyone else can deal with the rest of it. I'm pregnant and in need of a nap."

There was a smattering of chuckles at that as the pregnant blond stood slowly, walking gingerly into the living room to perform her "duty" of sorts. The others sighed as they stood to leave, figuring that they would soon have their hands full of MBs all over the place.

':.`*`.:'


	13. Evil Vacation

::With Dr. D and Sheego::

"DAMN IT!"

Draken looked over his magazine, brow raised at the sight of his best friend breaking another something-or-other that looked mildly expensive and probably was, but he knew better than to comment when actual curse words left her not-so-suprisingly potty mouth.

"Fucking goddammit!"

Another crash. He decided the better point of valor would be to ignore her rage until she was being reasonable. The caught, choked sob was enough to bring him back from his magazine, tossing it to the desk as he hurried to the crumpled green and black form.

Ever since Kimberly Possible had showed up with Ian Byrd at her side instead of Ronald, things had gone down hill for her. Turns out, Mr. Byrd was a relative, the son of one of her brothers. He had been sent here to keep a watch on Sheego and her supposed evil, villainous ways – not that they were wrong per say – and had spent more time in their good vs. evil exchanges trying to get under her skin and destroy her self-confidence and self-reliance.

This smacked of the brothers trying to "guilt trip" Sheego. If not for her current breakdown, he would have thought they had not done such a thing. In truth, what they were doing to her was more insidious and backhanded than anything he and Sheego had done in their entire evil (-ish) career. And if they didn't stop, he was going to get serious and break a few heads in. With hep, of course. Being a part of the villain world was good in the fact that he had far more blackmail, debts, and just good old fashioned favors in his stock pile than the others in the northern hemisphere combined. He figured it was a good thing that he had called in a favor with an acquaintance of his a few days ago. He could use that as an excuse to leave the area with Sheego in tow. She apparently was in desperate need of a break.

"Come on, Go. Let's go check my informant, hmm? Think of it as a vacation," he soothed as for once, it was him lifting her from the ground, carrying the sobbing mess from the room and to a self-bought jet. Ah, the wonders of being fantastically wealthy, he thought upon climbing the boarding ramp.

"C.R.A.I.G. please be sure to write a note for Possible and her lover-boy to let her know I'm on vacation and do not want to be disturbed. Deliver it with an android to her house."

"~As you say, sir,~" the AI responded, the soft sound of airlocks engaging the only sound besides ragged breathing and sniffles. The doctor laid his best friend on the hammock that opened silently down from the wall, strapping her in with the specialized harness before absconding to the captain's chair just three meters away at the forward of the plane.

"Thank you, CRAIG. While you're at it, let the airports know that I am en route to Pennsylvania and should be there within the hour."

"~Complying. Transmission sent. They know to expect your arrival, sir.~"

Good. Because he needed this as much as Sheego did. Strapping in and turning on the starter switches, he decided that this really would be a vacation. Villainy would wait for a few day, surely...

::Jake and Ron::

"So, what happens now?"

Jake idly ran his fingers along the strong lines that crisscrossed his boyfriend's and lover's stomach and chest as he lay between his legs, a sheet pulled up to his mid-back from where they had abandoned the bed some hours ago. He was basically the only thing keeping Ron from being completely exposed and took his job seriously. Well, mildly seriously as evidenced by the sly grin that nearly split his face in half.

Ron took a moment to respond, shivering under the deft touch. "Now as it what? 'Now' as in right now with the guys, 'now' as in our lives, or 'now' as in lets go again?"

Jake husked a laugh, his hot breath bathing the lower part of the blond's abdomen and causing goosebumps to rise. The blond carded his fingers through the dark hair, massaging the scalp and humming a content sigh. He has expected them to be nervous, shy and uncomfortable with each other after finally having full-on sex, but he was glad that they weren't. In truth, it was like they already knew each other far too intimately in different ways for any new physical intimacy to really bother the warm afterglow. The fact that they both liked cuddling and basking in the heat and smells of one another and generally being lazy after so much exertion, this was a major bonus.

"Mmmm, with the guys. We know enough about the future that it isn't the issue and 'going again' is going to have to wait until I can feel more like a person and not a pile of mush," Jake murmured, feeling the onset of content, bone deep lethargy.

"Yeah," Ron chuckled, bouncing the dark boy, "I can see it now. We've only been holed up in your room for two days now, screwing each other silly and being waited on hand and foot."

Jake flushed a little, the heat of his blood making his skin hotter. "We couldn't help it!"

Ron nodded, confirming with a soft hum. "And they'll understand even if they will be giving us those wall-eyed looks for days, if not weeks, to come. They'll get over it when we do."

Jake had to say it. Had to.

"To come? Haven't I already made you do that? Several times? For two days?"

Ron laughed, head going back as the vibrantly brilliant sound filled the house and warmed the dark-haired dragon far more deeply than touch could and more intimately than he would have thought possible.

And in that instant, he decided come Hell or high-water, he would hold onto this moment and this man forever.

And those who would destroy them...

They had better leave well enough alone because everyone knew better than to wake a sleeping dragon...


	14. Minutes to Decide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is going ON?!

:: Ron and Jake in an undisclosed location ::

Ron was looking from one to the other, indecision all over his face, screwing the lines into a pouting cringe. Jake didn't understand the whole issue. Truthfully, he was off to the side leaning against the wall, his jeans dark with a red skin tight shirt Ron had begged and kissed sucked him into - and all meanings applied to this innuendo, he thought with amusement and a bit of lust. Only a bit, though, because he was plum tuckered out! 

Ron was outfitted in something that, in his opinion, was a sin. The blond was delicious looking in his black jeans that looked poured on and a white shirt that was so tight, it looked like it was paint applies directly to flesh. Jake decided that if his lover was this confident after sex every time, he was going to have to do something to make his awakening boner less obvious. Like a mile long shirt or really baggy pants. A cup, possibly. SOMETHING, damn it! He shifted, adjusting himself with the movement. He then sighed, glancing down to the tight, perky bum that kept his eyes so low since he knew for a fact that nothing but muscles dimples were under the cloth. Saliva filled his mouth as the thought of biting it, nibbling along the spine up to the neck and laying possessive kisses there. 

Ron was, in a word, oblivious of his torment and the brunet was aching by now. 

Didn't they just get through with a marathon of sex? Oh, no, apparently not since his draconian libido was shouting at him to do something. Jake groaned and forced the heel of his hand against his face to relieve the building pressure. The soft, soothing scent and cool caresses of his mate had him looking up, bleary-eyed and stressing after just being calm moments before. 

"Jake?"

The question was hesitant, worried and the dragon did wonder about why he was having such issues. He wasn't sure, but it was like he couldn't breathe. Something was in his lungs and it appeared to only be affecting him. He stood straight, taking Ron's hand and starting to walk away when vertigo hit. His knees gave out and the blond boy grabbed him up, holding him close. "Damn it," the dark-haired boy growled in a slur. Something was going on...Something in the air... "Can't breathe...air..."

He never noticed when he fell comatose, hanging limply against Ron and causing the blond to panic and scream for help. 

:: Draken and Sheego ::

As he disembarked with the wilting and uncommunicative woman held to his side to keep her upright, he was relieved to see the limo in wait. It was a short one, but one of the better ones: bullet proofed ballistics glass, titanium over a steel roll-cage, and a few other delightful and non-showy perks that made the owner of the vehicle such a good associate and nearly a friend to the doctor. 

When the driver, a tall man built like a brick wall sporting I-beam arms and legs, opened the door, Draken helped Sheego sit comfortably before taking his own directly across from his contact and associate. It had been rumored that said contact was pulling back from the darker side of the business for his youngest siblings benefits. Possible, really. bot the whole reason, though. 

"It is good to see you whole, Doctor. It would seem, however, that your companion is not well?"

It was phrased as a question, sounded like one, but the blue-skinned man knew it was meant as an observation so only nodded. "Yes, one of many reasons to leave for a vacation. It is good to see you again." 

"And you as well," was the amused reply. Draken smiled. 

"Oh, stop with the formality. We're both rich men and I am the one in need, right, Artemis?"

The youth just smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dun! Didn't see that coming, did you?


	15. Entertainment of the Ill

::Current whereabouts - Unknown::

Jake groaned, trying very hard to not wake up just yet. If he was feeling pain now, how much worse would it be when fully conscious? The hitch in his lungs was definitely going to make him sick.

"Jake?"

Ron? What was the blond doing? Hadn't they been outside in the District? "Ron..."

Or, well, he had tried to say Ron. It had come more as a croak than the blond's name, however. There was a tube or straw placed to his lips, Jake greedily gulping down the water until the straw - it had to be, right? - was removed from his protesting lips. Ron gave a strained chuckle.

"Whoa there, lover boy. Easy or you'll make yourself sick," he soothed, brushing those long fingers through the thick black of the dragon's hair. Jake sighed and nudged further into the hand, enjoying the pampering. Ron spoke again, laying his hand full against Jake's cheek and fingers resting on his chin. "I bet you're wondering what happened, huh?"

Jake peeked one eye open, the world blurry but steadily coming into focus. Not unlike when he once eat some bad teriyaki as a kid. Food poisoning his mom had said. Sighing and feeling all kinds of aches reveal themselves, he nodded gently.

"You were poisoned. Apparently, someone with a lot of Dragon's Bane is floating around because there is an awful lot here in the city, but especially around you. My guess along with Wade, Artemis, and Spud is that there is a hit out on you. And..." Jake saw the blurred mouth of his lover moving as if chewing and knew immediately that he was sawing away at his lip. Something really, really bad, then. "And you know that villain I told you about? Dr. D? Yeah, your roommates with his sidekick right now so he has 'graciously offered' to be your bodyguard. Well, Sheego as your guard, he as the manager of this crazy farce of something I don't even know and right now I'm TOTALLY freaking out cause it's the D, DOCTOR DRAKEN and he's being nice and the three Super Brains are agreeing with him and I don'tknowwhattodo!"

Jake chuckled at his lover, rolling his eyes weakly but steadily feeling better. The moment Ron removed his fingers, though, he felt everything hit full force and groaned. DAMN IT, this was crazy! The soft frantic fingers attaching to his shoulders were quick to shut down the pain before it really got started. Jake shuddered like a kitten in a storm drain and mewed. Actually, physically mewed. Ron was careful to keep constant contact as he settled himself on the bed behind his lover and boyfriend, folding in and lifting Jake's head to be pillowed on his thighs. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh...

"Aaaannnndddd, back to square one, I think," Ron joked even as he tenderly tended to Jake.

"YOU TWO SHUT UP WITH THE KISSY-KISSY CRAP!"

"THAT would be Sheego."

Jake just chuckled.


	16. What's Going On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of wrapping up, but not really...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY, I ACTUALLY HAVE A LIFE NOW. THIS IS NEWS TO ME, I WASN'T AWARE IT HAPPENED.

**:: Hospital Room ::**

Jake woke to see...a lady and _not_ Ron, sighing at the fact that he was supposedly now much better. The sight of two boys, brown haired and freckled and tinkering with some small toy, were sitting near the lady - Sheego, he remembered suddenly - and quietly speaking with her was mildly baffling. He didn't remember them being here last time. Well, no, they probably hadn't been. He blinked, his brain just not wanting to work. 

"Finally awake," stated Sheego, looking over at the teen. "Ronald will be very happy, you know." 

The twins, in perfect unison, looked up, at each other, then stood, making for the door. Sheego chuckled, watching them go strangely fondly. The soft gentleness on her face was kind of beautiful to watch, like a mother seeing her children grow up too fast. Jake had to agree, the twins Jim and Tim had looked so much more mature. Mentally and possibly physically, he mused as they walked back in, looking...taller. _Bigger_. Then in came Ron and...and his head spun, his heart tripping at the heart breakingly beautiful smile bestowed upon him. By the gods, he was so in _love_ with him. 

"Hey," he whispered, Ron coming up to kiss him softly, smoothing Jake's hair back. 

The blond sat, the others in the room suddenly scarce as he leaned over the dragon, hand on his darker-skinned chest, pale fingers covering the talisman of black glass. "I think we need to do something drastic, Jake," he finally said, voice soft and dangerously warm so that the brunet felt his belly heat up like a bonfire. "This can _not_ keep happening." 

The dragon sighed, pulling his hand up to press the talon his lover wore as his own talisman into his freckled chest with darker fingers. "I know." 

The blond kissed the dragon's forehead, sighing. "I am going to stop this." Jake stiffened, looking into his eyes, the determined set and the dead serious fury lurking like banked fires. "You are going to stay here. You are going to get well and I will not be loosing my mind worrying over you." The brunet opened his mouth to protest and the blond set a finger over his lips. "No, Jake. This person is _targeting_ you. _YOU_ , Jake. I will not let you get fucking killed by some piece of shit with a misplaced vendetta against you." His voice was low and rough and absolutely terrifying. Still, he pressed butterfly kisses all over his face. "I can't, Jake. I just _can't_." It was heartbroken and terrible to hear and he was nearly crying. "It has to end. And I will not be going alone. I promise." 

Jake just sighed as if it took everything in him to let go. It really had, though. 

**:: In the Hospital Hall ::**

"Soooooo..."

"What now?" 

Sheego looked at the twins, the boys surprisingly accepting of her near their friends and family. It was...a nice if foolish change. "Now, we wait for Ron to rally the forces." This garnered a slighlty confused look, she elaborated. "You see, Ronald Stoppable has one hell of a spine. Titanium, even. And a very well hidden spot of vengence filled fury under his heart like a black Pandora's box. Now this box has been not only been cracked open, but ripped off the hinges. It has been a LONG time coming, really. And now..." She shrugged. "He is grappling with the box to put the lid back on, but he _needs_ to let out one of his monsters or it will fester. He knows this. Amazingly." 

The twins shared a look, nodding. "Done," they chorused, faces serenely calm. Sheego felt a shiver crawl along her spine. 

When Ron finally was able to part from Jake, he stood in the door, the she-villian-turned-bodyguard nodding as she stood at the door awaiting her orders. 

"No one in or out in the next two days. Check and recheck each doctor, nurse, and cart and needle toting asshole this hospital has before letting them near here. This might have been an airborn attack or a small dart, we don't know, but no one is going to touch him until this is over. Orders confirmed, Sheego?" 

 "Sir!" she saluted, feeling the intensity of him and the absolutely terrifying power in him, fighting to get out. This is what she had talked about but this was freaking ridiculous. She hadn't known how _hot_ it burned in him until just now. And she was so glad it was she it was directed at. 

"Good," he said lowly before walking away, the twins standing with her, faces a little surprised but otherwise unchanged. 

"Well," Jim started.

"He's righteously pissed," finished Tim. 

Sheego started to laugh at the vast understatement. 


	17. Call to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time of councils and war.

  
**:: At the Apartment ::**  

"Aunt Mel, you can't," Ron reasoned to the heavily pregnant woman, guiding her to a chair and setting her gently into the upholstered embrace. Mrs. Long was there to help, bringing over a stool with a cushion in hand to prop Mel's feet up, Hailey behind her with a plate of fruit and a glass of iced water. They were at the Long Apartment, Mel pouting mutinously even as she started nibbling on the food resting on her large baby bump. She was barely halfway into her second trimester and already she looked to be full term. "Besides, you get to command the home base," he joked gently, as he knelt at her side. "We're going out - well, no, I'm sending people out - to look for clues. In fact, I'll be here until something comes up."

Pouting she waved him on. "Fine, _fine_ , you pest. Be gone! At least you are able to care for yourself." 

It was no secret that Ron was suddenly making an army of humans, monsters, beings, and other creatures. Well, to the TMC and UMC networks. With the explicit instructions to keep Mel and whomever else in the Long Apartment safe under pain of Ron's fury. Surprisingly, this was more than enough to keep the Apartment under constant and vigilant watch. Or maybe not, that little skirmish had shown a whole other side and the rumors of the prowess the teen sported in battle was not all that greatly exaggerated.

The blond teen did not know of such, but appreciated the uncomplicated help volunteered to him and his boyfriend.

"Oh yes, Captain Oblivious," drawled Artemis as he walked into the room, Butler behind him like a wall of brick and mortar. Ron snorted at the younger teen, rolling his eyes.

"Stop calling me that," he protested lamely, waving the other teen in and to a chair at the kitchen table. "I am not entirely oblivious, though I still have no idea _what_ you are referencing this time. So stop."

Artemis snorted as he opened his laptop and sat regally, Butler moving his chair back into the table so that he would be able to reach comfortably. Clicking and dragging a few windows, he gestured to the screen. "This is a compilation of the information so far. It is air born dragons bane, there have been several sightings, and it seems to be a previous acquaintance well known to our targeted co-leader. What I am doing right now is running a face-recognition software that is going to pull as much information as possible from the four separate data bases of human, non-human, magical, and Underground. I have a confirmed hit on three of them so far, but I want to be thorough on the actual threat level before fully reporting all my findings, however." 

Ron nodded, going to the stove to put an enormous pot on, keeping his hands busy as he listened without speaking. Artemis sighed as he watched his screen, faces tumbling so fast that they were mearly colored smears. Spud, trundling in with a illusion suit being peeled off his muscular arms, thumped into a seat, head leaned back as he closed his eyes. Wade was a step behind him, he too peeling his own illusion suit off enough to let his bare arms and chest show. Trixie pulled up the rear, her suit just unzipped enough to grant some airflow since she was not about to sit all but bare breasted in a room of boys, bra or no bra. Her long hair was looped into impossibly intricate braids all around her head and down her back making her look more like a goddess on earth than a teen young woman. Artemis had to clear his throat and look away. Well. Hormones. There they are. Now time to shove them back into their lonely box. Right then. 

There was a ping, Artemis looking to the window profile that had finally finished its check and felt his eyes widen. Oh. Oh no. Flicking a button on the keyboard, the back on the laptop opened and a hologram lit up with the face of someone very familiar to him in the last six months or so with the UMC, but especially the TMC since Folly was chomping at the bit about it. Wade looked sharped eyed but not overtly upset. Trixie and Spud were very suddenly up and dark feminine fingers were white knuckled where they were fisted on the table top. Spud ended up mangling something that was now a vaugely spoon shaped metal mess. Ron looked over his shoulder after hearing the chairs scraping back harshly, eyes sharp on them then the image. His breath caught. 

"...Rose..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written a LOT of notes when I haven't been updating and I have not ignored this story, I've been trying to make it up as I go since all of my previous notes are gone (Thank you, trojan horse that fucked my hard drive, you cum-guzzling gutter slut bitch) which left me in a funk for a while. As may be obvious, I don't know. STILL! Everything is on paper now because fuck why not.


	18. Plotty Plots Plotting Plots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some bridging of plots and the filling of some holes, but not a lot.

**::With Ron::**

  
He sat, quiet and in the dark, head in his hands and fingers gripping his hair. This was...this was BAD. B-A-D, bad, bad, BAD. This might call for more delicacy than he could feasibly bring to bare. He needed more information. This was not going to end well no matter what he did, but maybe he could lessen the backlash. 

The soft hand on his shoulder had him snapping his head up, startled. It was Aunt Mel, hand on her belly and a soft smile teasing her lips. "Such a serious face, baby boy." She sat beside him, wrapping her free hand around his shoulders and pulling his face in to press a kiss to his forehead, even if she had to bring him down an inch or three. "Tell me?" 

His long arms went around her body, the one wrapped around her back settling his hand on her belly, feeling the flex of a moving baby. It was so amazing. She held life inside her body and it was the most natural thing. It felt almost like falling in love again and heart ache and a fear so intense he gripped her tighter just to know she was here and well in his arms. Tucking his face into her neck, he breathed deeply of the soft soap and warm skin smell of her just being alive. 

"Okay," he whispered. He could have said "No" or "I can't" or even "I don't want to" but that would be a lie. He didn't want to stress his aunt, not in her delicate condition - and it was delicate because if this failed, this would possibly be her only chance - but he knew he could trust her. 

"You're pretty quiet for wanting to say something," she teased gently, blond hair tickling his neck and cheek. Her voice was a soft thing, like one would speak to a small babe in the night of love and of forever and always. 

He snuggled in tight, twisting himself around her and sighing. "... I don't know where to start," he confessed in a whisper. "Do I start with the problems or the worry or even the worst possible thing that could have happened?" 

His rambling had his aunt petting his hair, rocking him a little as she kissed all along his brow and the crown of his hair. "Oh, baby," she cooed. "Lets do the worst thing first, okay? Let's put this all in perspective, alright?"

He took a deep breath, letting it out on a shaky sigh. "We think the attacker is Jake's old flame Rose." 

There was a long moment of silence before a soft "Oh" came from Mel. She gripped him tightly, holding his head to the crook of her neck as she thought about that before opening her mouth to speak. Only to close it. She heaved a put upon sigh, this big thing that made her entire body move. "Welp, that is not good at all." 

Ron chuckled a little at her understatement, feeling better already. His aunt just had a way of stating things and making it weird enough to be silly and managable and not as bad as it could be. "Yeah, considering she is a Hunteress that hunts all things magical and dangerous, it could have been better. And I can't, you know, actually take her permanently out of the picture because she's just a kid caught up in this mess, even if she's very possibly the reason why Jake is constantly in danger. She might just be the proverbial canon fodder." 

Mel groaned, hanging her head before a pitiful snort left her. "Oh, fun. This is just one big carnival ride." She chuckled, even if a bit darkly. "Grab the girl and get her on over here. I'll see about talking sense into the little trog." 

Ron laughed then, almost giggling as he imaging just what "heinous" and "terrible" things his aunt would do. Like make Rose watch Mel eat her ice cream and snacks. 

When they calmed, they sat in warm, confortable silence, Mel eventually pulling on Ron to make him help her up his bed and then tugging him down to hold him properly, his long body curled around her own, legs all bent with her feet on his knees as he laid his cheek to her belly as they sprawled on their sides facing each other. Kind of. Ron was more than halfway down her body what with his obsessive need to make sure the baby bump was okay. They never even noticed when they fell asleep. 

**::Trixie::**

"Aw, will you look at dat?" Trixie cooed, taking a picture of the exhausted blond duo. "Like cuddly puppies in a pile." 

Spud snorted hard enough on laughter that he choked. Discreetly. Or because he had a hand over his mouth and was backtracking fast down the hall so he could hack his lung out in peace. Trixie rolled her eyes but stopped her picture taking, making sure to finish off with a zoomed in face shot of the two. She looked over the pictures on her cell and made sure to send that one out to Wade and Jake. For reasons.   
Mrs. Long smiled as she saw the truly relaxed look of the two, putting her hand on the teen girl's shoulder and squeezing. "Come," she whispered to Trixie, "I am baking something, yes." 

Trixie wasn't one to say no to food and this new body of hers ran rampant through anything she ate. It was a wonderful day when she realized she would most likely never have to diet again. It was a nice little "bonus feature" that came with the upgraded package. Not to mention the suddenly silky and solidly strong hair that now graced her head in a long curtain that she currently had braided back until it just tickled her hips when the rope of tresses swung. It didn't help that nothing fit. Talk about torture, seven hours with her Nana and her Aunt Methusilla - or Auntie Lala, her father's sister - in over twenty shops and around six blocks. 

She shivered in rememberance, rubbing her arm to sooth her goose-bumps. The warm arm of Spud helped calm her before she gave herself hives or something. She turned to look at him, chuckling at his less than stellar looking complexion, all splotchy from near-death-by-self-suffocation. "Hey, baby," she muttered with a kiss to his cheek. It made him go so red he resembled more a tomato than a boy. "Come on, let's cuddle. I need some more touch therapy." 

Spud grinned. "If I didn't know you better, I would think I was being taken advantage of." 

Trixie rolled her eyes and thumped his stomach with a smirk. Her boyfriend was best boyfriend. 

**::Jake in the Hospital Room::**

"I'm booooooooooredddd-DAH..." the teen dragon groaned, leaning off his bed not unlike a spineless cat, head hanging and spine twisted. His arms flailed a moment before he let them drop to trail on the floor. Sheego threw a wad of paper at him, the ball bouncing off his forehead without him so much as swatting at it. 

She did it blindly. Darn her. 

"Kid, I know. Now shut up before I decide to hang you from your window." 

Jake groaned and gave up for now. She couldn't be evil for long, could she?   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, seriously, I need a BETA or two like you wouldn't believe. I need someone who can help me with several different series and fandoms and motivate me so I can get my ideas on paper. It's not that I don't have the idea, I just cannot seem to gather them properly to put ON paper in a cohesive line of thought. Which, apparently, is a thing that should be done to understand my brain. I'm not asking anyone to take ALL of this on, that would be asking way too much unless you can entirely follow the convoluted Echer Stair Room paths of my brain. Which, yeah, I cannot even do that some times. But, guys, I need some help. Please. I WILL add more later, I haven't remembered all of them right off the top of my head. Also, crossovers. Crossovers will happen. 
> 
> MAIN FANDOMS:  
> Inu Yasha, Spirited Away, HOMESTUCK, NARUTO, Kim Possible, American Dragon: Jake Long, Final Fantasy VII (and all the interations there of), The AVENGERS, Skyfall: 007/James Bond, Iron Man, The HOBBIT, RIDDICK compilation, Harry Potter, Biker Mice From Mars, Labyrinth....Et Cetera, Et Cetera.


	19. Growing Issues (And Some Explinations)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ALIVE! And busy! My Beta [icefiresky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/icefiresky/pseuds/icefiresky) is the BEST, you guys have no idea! Here's to hoping I've answered some questions. 
> 
> This is also short as hell. I regret that, but I'm trying to find my muse again - they've gone off the deep end in some respects and I'm getting around to tracking my thoughts down again. I've found some old notes that I had left over from WAY BACK WHEN THIS STARTED, so I'm using them to plot back out the original ideas. Wish me luck.

**::UNDISCLOSED::**

 

“You have _failed_ , child. Tell me why I shouldn't remove your head from your shoulders?”

 

Rose felt a faintly sick feeling curl up her throat, forcing her to swallow before she could answer this... this _being_ , this horrible, terrible being. “I will do better, Master! I will...” she internally grimaced as she finished her sentence, “dispose of the City Protector. I have not used all of my tricks!”

 

There was a sound of rustling not unlike the sound of Death, a rasping of a dead man's breath and crumbled leaves over the ground in late Autumn. The blond girl held in a terrified shiver.

 

“Then go. _DO WHAT YOU ARE TOLD!_ ”

 

Rose had never moved so fast in her life.

 

**::The War Room::**

 

Ron stood with Draken over the large map, color points for each attack – Mel, Jake... anything suspicious. It was a little weird that they had been stored less than a thirty minute walk from Mel's apartment and where Jake had been attacked originally. Then the second one that was only twenty minutes from their new place...

 

Actually... “Draken, can you get me some of the TMC? The gossips are best – I have a theory. If I'm right, it's frightening.”

 

The blue man sighed, a hand to his face, gloves folded neatly in his pocket. “Not until either Wade or Spud return. Artemis is actually taking time to get his little business running so he and his bodyguard are unavailable and leaving _you_ like a lit powder keg alone would be like shooting myself in the face. So excuse me if I veto your command and ignore other stupid suggestions.”

 

Ron opened his mouth to snap at him, rage bubbling just beneath the veneer of civil gentleness before he bit back the snarling rage. Gripping the table tight enough to make the edge creak in his hand was the only thing keeping him from flinging himself across the table to... do something nasty to the older man. The blond took a breath, slow in, slower out, trying to calm himself into a semblance of sanity. He was not an angry person – he was _not_. Even if he got his hands on Rose right now, she might not walk away. Or ever again.

 

“Jake's dragon is strong, thus is his mate's urge to protect at all costs just as strong,” commented a soft, sympathetic voice from the doorway, the short form of Grandpa filling the room with his presence. Calm seemed to settle across Ron's shoulders, loosening the knots that were heavy under his skin. This was Jake's Dragon Leader, his alpha, for lack of better understanding and with him keeping a calm, determined air, Ron was able to force something similar on himself. “You must calm your heart or your mind will wilt and vanish into deep rage, Ron-san. Find your center, my student.”

 

Draken calmly stepped back and to the side, out of direct sight and keeping calm despite his very pale complexion. “This is why I don't like getting mixed up in magic and bonds and all that whatnot nonsense,” he mused lowly. “Completely kooky, it is.”

 

Ron snorted in agreement even as he felt something tug at the outer reaches of his mind. Something worrying. He just couldn't figure out what it was.

 

The phone ringing in the distant part of the house was not even a distraction, that nagging feeling multiplying quickly. Draken answered with a nasal hello before yelping, the phone dancing in his hands in what would have been an entertaining way were it not for the fearsome screams coming over the speaker. Trixie burst into the house, the door slapping against the wall as she removed her hood, eyes wide.

 

“IT'S JAKE!”

 

The stereo cry from Draken and the dark skinned young woman was all that Ron needed to spirit himself into action, that nagging bursting into an alarm that blared a strained scream inside his head. His heart clenched into a hard fist in his chest before speeding along into a deafening beat that deafened his ears. He never even noticed when he started running, leaving the house with people giving way as if he were a mad bull.

 

Trixie was with him, the tall teen cursing as her long braid whipped at her legs, hair pins giving way to the force of her run. “DAMN IT, RON! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING IN TO!”

 

The blond ignored it, speeding up. The hospital was there, less than a block away. A screaming figure was flung in a miasma cloud of searing acid green from a window four stories up. The black and burgundy body flailed before landing with a sickening crunch on the pavement below, horns blaring. Ron felt hatred well up under his ribs as he put on more speed, almost inhuman, barely touching the ground in his flight. There was no hope for Trixie to keep up, the blond teen leaving her behind as he slammed through the doors, past the scared orderlies and took the stairs.

 

Scraping in behind him, the girl growled breathlessly. “I can't... believe... he's that... faaaaast...”

 

**::Jake's Hospital Room::**

 

“THE DOOR ISN'T GOING TO HOLD MUCH LONGER!”

 

“NO SHIT?! REALLY?! I DID NOT KNOW THAT, CAPTAIN FUCKING OBVIOUS!”

 

Jim and Tim were working furiously further in the room, scrapping as many machines as they could to pull a weapon out of thin air. It was working, but they weren't as quick about it as they needed to be. Thus the shouting match between a half red, half too pale to be good tan, and all pissed Jake and the banshee woman better known as Sheego while the two blockaded the door. The sound of a startled scream in the hall followed by a faint gurgle was enough to make someone else yelp for help. The twins froze – that was the sound of someone dying. Brutally, unless they were mistaken.

 

“Ron's here,” the two chorused as Jim finished with the last panel, Tim pulling on the sliding action before the sweet, sweet sound of it powering up pierced the sudden and momentary silence.

 

Then the screaming began, high and frightened. The two brunets knew Ron well; enough to make him some fairly illegal toys anyway. This wasn't... that surprising. With their sister, well, Ron didn't need to be the one leading the charge. Here? Oh, they had hard money on when the nighttime nasties found out about him. They would either flee on sight or try and make a name for themselves. There was little chance that they would survive either way.

 

(Oddly enough, Ron was vindictive and vicious when letting loose. Don't say they didn't warn ya.)

 

“Open the door and _stand back_!” one yelled, holding the back end as his mirror image locked the sights on the door. Sheego glanced back, went absolutely translucent, and kicked the barricade out of the way while snagging the flagging dragon boy and swinging the door open with a sharp _BANG_ that left a hole in the plaster wall. When the blaster-gun-mutant-hardware went off, the wall was flooded with fast moving ice. The tips of the pale woman's hair were frozen solid, one bit even breaking off cleanly. The left over minions in front of the door were stiff in action poses that ranged from odd to down right hilarious.

 

A blond head peaking in, eyes narrowed while a brow rose up his face was more than enough confirmation that the duo got a majority of the problem in one go. Go team Twin Possible! Shrugging, the older male teen checked the statue people party participants, face going pale.

 

Looking to his sick and currently green in the face mate, the brown eyed boy swallowed loudly. Interest piqued, the Troublesome Twins were quick to wander up, looking for themselves. Oh... _Oh_. That wasn't good.

 

This was... horrible.

 

“That's one of our TMC contacts!”

 

Well... fuck.

 

**::With Grandpa and Aunt Mel::**

 

“So...” the heavily pregnant woman started, curling her feet up under her. The small Asian man smiled, feeling more robust now than he had in years. Ah, the life brought forth by the body of a woman, what a strange and wondrous magic. Sipping some of his steaming tea lightly, he nodded for her to continue.

 

“So, magic and strange beings and just... my sweet nephew is _mated_ to your grandson and it's moving really fast! I just... don't quite know what to make of it.” She bit sharply into a pickle with chocolate and strawberry sauce on the end. “Aren't they going too fast?”

 

Ah yes. He remembered this argument. Not that it did him any good with his daughter. He smiled at the memory, sighing. “Ah, I would say they're going _slow_! Jake has found his other half, his missing piece. Like my daughter did with her husband, my grandson ignored the rules and found the one person that completed his soul. It will be hard for us to understand, of course,” he mumbled a bit sourly, “because we do not have such connections. It's okay to not know what to do.”

 

Mel rubbed her face with her free hand, a bowl balanced on her belly. “I just fear that something might happen, that they'll fight or hurt each other and I don't even know!” She sat a moment in silence, the silver haired man letting her think. “It's... scary. One day they're barely even friends and the next they're bound for life!”

 

The silence stretched, Mel biting her pickle with a bit more ferocity – similar to how a lioness snaps at a bone, the older man mused. He leaned back, tea cooling quickly in the temperate room.

“I... do not know how to describe this for you,” he murmured in a gentle tone, “but this is something that we cannot help or fix or change. They will fight, of course, they are too different for anything else – _yet_ they are alike in the ways that make them leaders and champions. They are good and share it with others and that will squander their time with each other. But...”

 

Mel dipped her finger into the bowl petulantly. “But what?”

 

“But they are halves of a singular... _whole._ They are Yin and Yang, different, opposite, yet of the same piece, the same circle. Their gifts of glass and talon are more than decorations that state their claimed status – they are literal translation of their souls, their lives, given to their one. One was created from the other, and the other is shaped with intentions of giving to the creator. Jake created the link, forged the bond, and Ron has had to find the creation to share with the creator. Jake had been incomplete when they left on their _road trip_ , as it were, Ron unknowingly hoarding a significant part of Jake's very essence. Now, they are finding balance; Ron is becoming more like a dragon – protective, passionate, determined, possessive. Jake is becoming more like Ron – calm, even-tempered, giving, compassionate. It is... amazing to watch,” he finished, staring into the depths of the tea, leaves fluttering as he swirled the liquid. “When the bond finishes stabilizing, they will be perfect for one another.”

 

Mel sighed, the blond woman wiping a tear from her eye. “I've lost my baby boy but was granted a strong young man instead. We are so _lucky_ , Grandpa Long.”

 

The old man chuckled, agreeing. Indeed, they were vastly lucky.

 

**::Artemis after the fight::**

 

Never had the teen been so angry, listening to the phone blurt that annoying busy signal. Butler stood to his side, calm as stone, waiting. “Goddammit, Foley, hang up on your lady of the night and talk to _me_!” Slapping his phone onto the desk, he seethed. Something was wrong and he could contact _anyone_.

 

Well...

 

Almost anyone.

 

“Holly?”

 

“ _Artemis! Thank the Moon, you finally called!”_

 

“... Holly? What is going on?”

 

There is a moment of pause.

 

“ _Someone is trying to shut down the Top Magical Community. The Underground Magical Community is in upheaval, no calls out even if we can receive, and there is a war going on in the middle of the city!”_

 

Artemis sighed. Well, there went his slow weekend. “Give me everything, Holly, and I mean all of it. This is guerrilla warfare at it's finest – and we're the only ones who can make it stop.”


End file.
